


Shattered, Yet Unbroken

by Andrina_Nightshade, dyadinbloom, greywilde, tmwillson3



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Victorian, Angst with a Happy Ending, Character death (but not for long!), Duke Ben, F/M, Fix-It, Fluff and Angst, Force Bond (Star Wars), Frozen Heart, Hans Christian Andersen influences, Healing, Ice Palace, Implied Sexual Content, Meddling Parents, Mild Sexual Content, Museums, Piloting the Falcon, Post-Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker, Reylo Across All Timelines, Reylo Positivity Week 2020, Smuggler Ben Solo, Some instances of body-shaming, World Between Worlds, governess Rey
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-23
Updated: 2020-09-28
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:09:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 22,491
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26606527
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Andrina_Nightshade/pseuds/Andrina_Nightshade, https://archiveofourown.org/users/dyadinbloom/pseuds/dyadinbloom, https://archiveofourown.org/users/greywilde/pseuds/greywilde, https://archiveofourown.org/users/tmwillson3/pseuds/tmwillson3
Summary: After Exegol, Rey's heart is shattered, just like her bond with Ben. In the aftermath, she goes to Ahch-To, seeking answers. What she finds is the World Between Worlds, new, alternate universes of what could have been between them. And with each world she visits, she takes back a piece of Ben, until at last the pieces can be united. There, she discovers the truth: their bond remains unbroken.
Relationships: Kylo Ren/Rey, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 24
Kudos: 87





	1. Shattered

**Author's Note:**

> A year after the events of Exegol, Rey returns to Ahch-To to bury the sabers along with her past. She finds something...else.
> 
> Chapter 1 written by andrina_nightshade and dyadinbloom.

_It’s an important symbolic gesture on the path to healing_ , Rey tells her friends, when they react with incredulity towards her announcement that she intends to take Luke and Leia’s sabers and bury them. A means of respecting their passing, and allowing the past to fade away. 

It’s only a half-truth.

In moments of absolute honesty with herself, Rey knows what she _really_ wants is to get away from Ajan Kloss. Mourning - true, gut-wrenching, messy mourning - was nigh impossible when surrounded by others who saw _his_ death as a victory.

That no-one truly understood was unsurprising. The story of Ben Solo’s turn had been met with incredulity and disbelief. The man once known as Kylo Ren, who had stood by her side to challenge the Emperor, who had poured the last of his life force into her when she lay dead on the barren ground of Exegol, would always be the megalomaniacal Supreme Leader in their eyes. Rey doubted that anyone in the Resistance actually believed her version of events to be more than simple fiction.

Well, she amended, not _everyone_. Rose - kind, perceptive Rose - had evidently suspected there was much more to the story than Rey had shared with them. Her hug had been one of comfort, as if she knew that Rey needed this above effusive praise and celebration. But Rose had suffered at the First Order’s hands. Maybe one day, Rey would share the whole tale with her.

Finn too - he had witnessed firsthand Kylo Ren’s pursuit of her, with the possessiveness of a jilted lover rather than a simple opponent. He had heard Rey’s confession of _that_ vision, of sharing the Sith throne with her dark lover. But Finn could never truly understand that Rey had - unacknowledged to even herself for much of the last year - returned those feelings.

Truly, the only person she had been able to pour out her feelings to was Chewbacca.

In the hours following Rey’s return to Ajan Kloss after the battle on Exegol, as the base filled with laughter and music and overwhelming _hope_ , she had retreated to her quarters. Yes, the galaxy was safe; and yes, perhaps the next generation would grow up amidst a peace hitherto unknown. 

But without Ben, that victory tasted only of ash.

A few hours into her solitude, Chewie had sought her out. What started as a comforting hug had rapidly descended into her weeping and wheezing into his fur, his giant paws offering rubbing soothing circles against her back. His own frame wracked with sobs.

Chewie had been more of a parental figure to Rey than anyone. More than her short-lived mentorship under Han Solo. More than her frustrating student-teacher relationship with Luke Skywalker. More than the year spent as Leia’s apprentice under her particular brand of distant affection.

Even though he had, in a fit of rage and blind grief, shot at Ben on that horrid bridge on Starkiller Base, Chewie had loved him. No matter the stains and dark deeds upon his soul, Chewie remembered that gap-toothed little boy with gangly limbs and a penchant for books and stories.

_ <I loved him like my own pup.> _

So, when Rey announced her intent to return to Ahch-To, Chewie had been adamant in his desire to accompany her.

BB-8 had also offered to accompany her - and though she felt tremendous affection towards the droid whose appearance in the Jakku desert had been the catalyst for every adventure and suffering of the last year - she couldn’t be honest with BB-8 around.

* * *

Once the _Falcon_ has broken atmo over Ajan Kloss, once the planet below has faded to but a speck, once the ship shudders into hyperspace, Chewie turns to Rey. She is seated in the co-pilot’s chair, Ben’s torn sweater draped loosely over the lap. 

_ <I’ll take the first shift, Little One,> _ he trills. _ <Get some rest. Long journey ahead of us.> _

Arguing with him would take too much effort. Instead, Rey gives a wordless nod and shuffles out of the cockpit. Part of her suspects this little pilgrimage is as much for his benefit as hers. He too needs to mourn, having spent too many days hiding behind a proud and stoical demeanour. 

Rey’s feet carry her to her quarters - the one that had once belonged to Ben. Traces of him linger in the very fabric of this ship. She clings to every one, though they slip through her grasp like wisps of smoke.

Curled in her bunk - too large and too _empty_ \- she buries her face in Ben’s shirt. After a few wears, his scent starts to fade from the shirt. The sweat and blood of his final battle had not been the most pleasant thing, but it had been something tangible of _him._

Another tendril of smoke dissipating into the air…

She wishes he had allowed her to stay dead.

She wishes she had taken his hand that day in Snoke’s burning throne room.

She wishes she had kissed him senseless on the seaswept ruins of the Death Star, dragged him to Force knows where, and lost themselves in love and rapture, let the bond sing and sigh in approval.

She wishes all of it, and none of it.

She supposed that anyone, having lost the other half of their soul after one blissful moment of homecoming and _rightness_ , would feel bereft. Once the numbness faded, she expected tears.

The rage - incandescent and blistering - that filled her was not entirely unexpected. But overall, what she felt was a profound sense of _imbalance._ Like straddling a precipice, unsure of which direction she was ready to plummet. Every moment felt like an emotional tumult, every darker emotion biting at her heels in a way it had not even done so on in that horrid sepulchre on Exegol.

Jealousy every time she witnessed other members of the Resistance kissing and canoodling.

Fury every time someone still used the name _Kylo Ren,_ even in their cups.

Bone-deep weariness that no amount of rest can ever quench.

And a heartbreak so profound it stills her breath. 

_“I’ll always be with you,”_ he had whispered into her mind as his body had faded into the Force.

But she hadn’t heard so much as a peep from him. A lifetime of decades stretched out before her, and she knows that, though the sting of grief may not smart a much with time, grief is burned onto her very bones. He had been the other half of her soul, and until their eyes had locked in that final Force bond on Exegol, she had not understood how deep his absence had run.

To taste that love, that sweetness before it crumbled in a haze of pain and death…

Rey wipes angry tears away. She now understood Ben’s long mocked habit of taking his saber to walls and consoles, making them bleed molten metal. But she would not mark his father’s ship - what should now be _his_ ship - in such a way.

So she tugs the sweater over her head - a poor facsimile of his embrace, but she will have to content herself with it for the rest of time.

Perhaps, she spectulates whilst on the edge of sleep, that Ahch-To will have some answers for her. Or at least, some semblance of peace.

* * *

Rey jolts into awakeness, heart pounding, breath coming in short gasps. The dream had been such a vivid one - she had seen Ben, just at the edges of her palms, behind the glass of the mirror cave on Ahch-To. But he’d been underwater, fighting to get out - to get to _her_ \- and she couldn’t help him. He’d smirked at her, never panicking, ever composed, but she’d been frantic. He’d sought to calm her even as the dark water pulled him away.

Rey catches her breath now - just a dream, that’s all these ever were - and snuggles more deeply into the false warmth his worn sweater provides. In the days since she’s arrived on Ahch-To, the dreams and visions have come to her in a flood.

Luke’s words swim back into her mind. _Powerful light, powerful darkness._

These glimpses of Ben’s ghost are powerful, all right, Rey laments bitterly. They tear her in two, just when she thought she’d been closer to making herself whole again. It’s as though the bond has been ripped in half freshly - that instant of completeness and _balance_ she felt after kissing Ben cruelly torn away yet again - a constant assault on her body.

She shivers, wrapping a blanket around herself, and rises, rubbing her eyes. Chewie sleeps on the Falcon, and she knows he’s nearby if she needs companionship.

But wallowing in solitude sounds appealing now, so she waits for her body to wake fully, yearning for the caf she’d given up when she’d embraced the path of the Jedi, along with so many other things she’d foregone.

Anger. Vengefulness. Fear. 

Love. Family. Passion.

Rey scowls, resigned even now to the fact that the Force had taken Ben from her. She’d given her all to the Light - given her very _life_ to defeat the Dark once and for all - and what had it given her in return?

Nothing. Instead, it had taken away the one person in her life who’d ever truly known her, snatched away her chance at the family she’d never had, the belonging she’d always sought.

She sighs now, closing her eyes and sinking into a meditative pose, her legs folding automatically beneath her as she sits lotus, even as the Force flows around her and she hovers above the ground effortlessly. The familiar pose calms her, helps steady her, in these moments of imbalance.

But something is different here, on Ahch-To. Everything comes to her more powerfully, more intensely.

When she climbs the island hills in the mornings, the sunrise strikes her like a blow.

When she settles into her bunk in the evenings, a small fire lit for warmth, the loneliness all but crushes her.

Echoes of the past are everywhere here. Luke, Yoda, the old Jedi texts, _Ben_ \- she cannot escape them.

Rey had come to Ahch-To to find peace. To bury the sabers, to bury her past. To move forward. To move _on._

But instead of peace, she found greater turmoil. Time seemed fluid here; the Force showed her the near and distant past, as well as glimpses of the present - of what her friends were doing back on Ajan Kloss, of Chewie arguing with porgs aboard the Falcon. And it showed her tantalizing glimpses of what she dearly hoped was the future.

A sense of rightness, of Luke and Leia, satisfied that balance had been achieved.

A feeling in Rey of safety, of completeness.

And brief snatches of Ben; handsome, healthy, whole Ben, crushing her to him in an embrace, holding her tightly to him in the night, banding his arms about her shoulders amid a searing kiss that was a replica of the one they’d shared on Exegol.

Rey knew better than anyone that what the Force showed her was far from guaranteed. Where she used to find terror or elation in these visions, she now found just another symbol to ponder. 

Now, in her quiet hut, the Force swirling around her, Rey breathes deeply. She lets go. She reaches out.

Her mind is momentarily quiet.

And then, behind her closed eyelids, her mind brings the image of the mirror cave to the forefront once more.

It’s dark, and cold, and damp, as always. But this time there’s something different. It’s not silent. The echoes she’s accustomed to hearing and feeling when she’s in the cave are gone. There’s a sense of fullness; of another presence.

Rey furrows her brow above her closed eyes, forcing her vision to walk her closer to the mirror behind which she’s only ever seen shadows and ghosts.

Behind which she’s longed to see one _particular_ ghost.

Blurred figures dance closer to her, as they always do, teasing her, tempting her.

Rey breathes deeply. _Balance._ Resisting temptation, avoiding hope, has become as natural to her as the breaths she takes now.

But in her mind, as she steps closer to the mirror, her hand rising to touch its surface almost of its own volition, she sees that behind the clouded surface is something small. Not a figure, this time, but an object - an object she hasn’t seen in over a year.

Rey’s fingertips touch the surface of the mirror and it clears, and Kylo’s saber swims into view. She gasps as it floats before her, just on the other side of the glass. The exposed wiring, that unstable energy, the twin quillions, that cracked kyber crystal - the weapon calls to her now viscerally, sings to her so sweetly. 

Rey opens her eyes, unsurprised that the Force has brought her from her sleeping area to the cave now, and her physical form shivers in the chill air as she stares at the mirror, just a breath away, Kylo’s saber appearing so real behind it. She narrows her eyes, pressing her fingers forward, _through_ -

And she hears him.

_I’ll always be with you, Rey._

Then her hand breaches the surface of the mirror, and her fingertips brush his saber, and it shatters before her eyes, which widen briefly in surprise before everything goes black.


	2. The Smugglers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey's first vision: Rey and Ben are rival smugglers who work together

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These next few chapters are stories within a story, visions that Rey sees. Everything in italics and present tense is happening right now, post Episode IX. Everything in past tense is the vision seen. 
> 
> This chapter is written by tmwillson3. Hope you enjoy!

_ Blackness fills her vision, and the power of the shattered saber - of the shattered kyber crystal - sends her flying.  _

_ Any time now she thinks she'll land, but she doesn't. She's falling. Her arms flail; using the Force proves fruitless.  _

_ She realizes then Force is showing her something yet again, the saber a trigger to enter this darkness. Just like in the Mirror Cave before, she knows it has to end somewhere, so she imagines she's falling down into the pit on Exegol to join Ben. She gives herself into the fall, ready for what may come, and that's when she lands. _

_ Hard.  _

_ With a loud oomph, her behind hits the rocky ground around her. When she recovers, it's not cold here like she expects.  _

_ It's warm, and she feels a breeze. She blinks her eyes open, and she is assaulted by bright, white light all around. Not understanding, she scrambles up, looking for anything amid the blinding whiteness. As soon as she steps, some of the light diminishes, leaving in its place a vision.  _

_ Taking another step, she sees more clearly, and she's pulled to a vision of the desert, one that reminds her of Jakku. An old man guides a small girl with three buns away from an AT-AT onto a large, waiting ship.  _

_ Confused, she reaches out, and that's when the vision changes once more. Her fingers go through the vision, and that's when she's sucked in, watching it unfold. _

\----------

"It's time for another adventure, Rey."

Rey's body perked up, and she joined Lor San Tekka in the cockpit of his ship. "Where are we going this time?" 

"Not we. You," he replied, handing her a pack with a weapon and supplies for her next mission. "This is one where I cannot help you. It requires one to be able to access the Force, like you can. I trust you to handle this alone, Rey."

Excitement coursed through her body at being trusted to go off on her own. "I won't let you down. What am I finding and bringing back?"

"We have been commissioned to find a kyber crystal, like the one used in Luke's saber. We're taking it on a pilgrimage afterward. The crystal is located on Mustafar, within Fortress Vader. I need to meet Luke now, but I'm dropping you here at Takodana Castle, where it'll be easy to find safe passage to Mustafar. I've given you enough credits for anything that may crop up, so you're not forced to fix things for passage again."

"Thank you," she said with a rueful smile, shouldering the pack and hugging her surrogate father. "I'll meet you back here within a week."

His arms clapped her shoulders, emotion choking his voice. "May the Force be with you."

The ramp dropped open, and Rey ventured inside the castle, trying to find someone in the dark, cavernous room full of people and music. Having no luck, she ordered a meal while deciding her next move. 

It was as she finished eating that the door to the castle opened, revealing a tall man with dark, wavy hair. With a patrician nose and a stormy, brooding look, he filled the space, especially with a Wookiee at his side. Rey's eyes were drawn to the way his white shirt seemed pasted to his muscled chest and the two blasters at his side. 

"Ben Solo! And my boyfriend!"

Maz Kanata greeted them like old friends, and Rey subtly turned to watch them, trying to place the name that seemed familiar. If Maz trusted them, then perhaps she could hitch a ride with them. 

They started in her general direction when she heard Maz say, "I assume you need something, desperately. Let's get to it."

Rey turned to face her table to appear inconspicuous. As the trio passed by, the one named Ben accidentally bumped into her. 

"I'm sorry," he said as she turned around with a hopeful smile. At seeing her face, he gave her a roguish grin and leaned in. "My apologies, Miss--"

"Rey," she finished, heart beating a little faster at the way his smile changed his entire demeanor. 

"Rey." He tried it out and stood up. "It was a pleasure bumping into you." He was about to leave when he saw her confused look. At that, he clarified hurriedly, "Not that I wanted to bump into you or hurt you. Just a pleasure that it had to be...bumping into you."

She giggled. "Of course."

She really hoped that she could travel with him. He seemed like good company, and she liked him. It seemed like he was as unwilling to leave as she was based on the way he didn't leave right away. 

"You know, she may be your best bet for getting off this planet and to Mustafar," said Maz, a twinkle in her eyes.

"You're going to Mustafar, too?" asked Rey, standing up. "What are the odds?"

"Never tell me the odds." The answering grin on his face made her hope, as he seemed just as relieved to hear that. "Chewie and I are going, assuming we can repair our ship. The hyperdrive is busted."

"Then you're in luck. I'm a mechanic, and I need to go to Mustafar. Perhaps we could negotiate something...mutually beneficial?" she asked, motioning to her table with a sly smile.

"I think we could." He took a seat at her table, along with Chewie. 

A short time later, a price and terms were decided upon, and Rey liked both already. With a roar of approval from Chewie they got up and left, leading her to an old freighter.

"This old piece of junk will make it to Mustafar?" she asked when she came onboard. 

"Thank you!" said Ben triumphantly before turning to Chewie. "I told you it was junk." Facing her once again, he added, "Yes, this piece of junk will make it. She's a survivor, even if the hyperdrive isn't. Every time I touch it, I make it worse. I don't think it can be fixed anymore."

The challenge was subtle, but there. She rose to meet it, stepping into his space. "Let me see."

An hour later after being led to the cockpit, she managed to bypass the compressor. Ben watched her carefully throughout her work, and when she was successful, he shook her hand. 

If their hands lingered to touch a little longer than was strictly normal, neither commented on it. 

Once she was buckled in, she watched the duo work closely with one another to leave the planet. She quickly became impressed with Ben's ability as the pilot as they maneuvered away from an asteroid field. Once they were in hyperspace, Ben handed the controls to Chewie, and he showed Rey around the ship.

"So, what takes you to Mustafar?" he asked after a time. 

"Work," she said, growing uncomfortable. 

"Funny. So am I. What are the odds," he mused, looking her up and down before pointing to a Dejarik table. "I need to retrieve something located in Fortress Vader. Where should I drop you off?"

"I need to go to Fortress Vader, too! We should help each other," she said, going toward the table.

"I need to know more about you and what you're looking for," he said, sitting and looking her up and down. "To help you...properly."

She grinned, a thrill running through her. "Only if you tell me about you and what you need."

"Play a game with me. It'll pass the time faster. For each piece taken, we share a piece of information," he suggested, leaning back and putting his arms on top of the seat. 

"I'm in."

Rey found herself falling fast for Ben. At first, he ignored all work-related things in order to learn her background and general likes and dislikes. At one point, the game stopped entirely as they chatted amicably about flying, something they both loved.

"Did you know that you're aboard the  _ Millennium Falcon _ ?" he asked eventually, both leaning on their elbows toward one another. 

Her eyes went wide in awe. "You mean, the ship that made the Kessel Run in fourteen parsecs?"

His brows narrowed before he barked, " _ Twelve _ parsecs."

Connecting all the dots, she continued, "So you're Han Solo's son? Are you a smuggler, too?"

"Yes," he said, growing wary as his back straightened. "You're a smuggler as well?"

Her enthusiasm dissipated slightly as she leaned back. "Yes."

"I'm intrigued. I want to learn more," he said, eyeing her and moving a piece. "Your turn."

After that, things grew more tense between them, at least until they determined that they were both looking for the same item. The game ended after that.

Both eyed the other, but ever the optimist, Rey suggested, "Perhaps there are more than one on Mustafar."

"I doubt it. Luke meditated on it and determined there was only one. That it's special," said Ben. "He needs it to fix something in the Force. Who commissioned you?"

"I don't know, but, wait, you know Luke Skywalker, too?" asked Rey, more curious than ever.

Ben's body language changed dramatically at the mention of Luke. Becoming tense and closed off at her question, she feared that she had crossed a line.

"He's my uncle, and he taught me for a short time to become a Jedi before I ran away with my father. Yeah, I know him," mumbled Ben before looking away, clearly uncomfortable.

Not wanting to lose the connection they had developed, she said, "Then we should just work together and bring it back to Takodana. If we're lucky, Luke asked Lor to do the same." She got up and put out a hand. "Partner?"

He stared long and hard at her palm before shaking. "Partner. Just what do you know about the Force?"

As it turned out, not as much as Ben. Since Lor San Tekka studied the Force, he had taught her everything he knew, despite not being Force-sensitive. Still, it was nothing like the training of a Jedi. 

Ben was reluctant at first, but eventually she convinced him to teach her by sharing some of her deep, dark secrets with him. He wanted to know everything about her, and she was happy to share with him, as she had never felt such a strong connection to anyone before. He taught her a few parlor tricks and defensive things so that she was ready to fight and escape on Mustafar, and she loved all of it. 

By the time they arrived on Mustafar, an understanding existed between them. They would work together for this one job, with Rey carrying the crystal back. Chewie would be the lookout and wait with the  _ Falcon _ .

Rey was amazed by the red skies and smokey scene they found. Ben grew sullen and quiet as soon as they entered the atmosphere. Once on the black, volcanic ground, both communed with the Force, trying to locate the crystal. 

Ben didn't want to do it at first for unknown reasons, so she did it. However, when the crystal didn't speak to her, Ben reluctantly sat and quieted his mind. Within moments, he found it and started describing where they needed to go. 

"Why are you afraid to tap into the Force, Ben?" she asked as they jogged toward the entrance. 

"You don't know who my family is," he said, stopping. 

She followed suit, and seconds later, Ben shot off both his blasters as guards from Alazmec of Winsit approached them. Impressed, Rey brought out her blaster and helped him finish off the first wave.

"What does your family have to do with this? Is it because of Luke?" she asked, fixing him with a look. "Are you afraid of growing up crazy like him?"

He chuckled. "No. My grandfather built this castle after he killed my grandmother."

He ran off as she reeled at the information, and she had to race to catch up. Every once in a while, he would stop to connect to the crystal again, ensuring they were on the right path, and the deeper into the bowels of the castle they went, the more stoic Ben became. 

After removing several more contingents of guards, they finally came to a series of doors and challenges. After much shooting and attempts at lock-picking, Rey recognized that the door was controlled by the Force. When Ben refused to do anything, she found a way to open the door. 

When they were inside, she faced him. "Ben, we may need your parlor tricks soon if this door is any indication. You need to stop being afraid to use the Force."

His face became red. "I'm not afraid of using the Force!"

"Could've fooled me," she commented before walking in further and finding puzzles to complete. 

Those puzzles also required using the Force, and she tackled them all easily, except one. The last one required both of them, and Ben needed much convincing to do it. However, they succeeded, and Rey got the next door open. 

As they made their way through more puzzles, revealing many old markings and Sith symbols, she saw him huddle in on himself more and more until eventually he stopped moving.

"Ben? What's wrong?" she asked, kneeling beside him, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. 

"We're close. It should be through that door. Go on without me," he croaked. "It's not safe for me to go in there."

"Ben?"

"No!" he cried, suddenly standing up and pacing. "I won't be like him!"

"Won't be like who? What are you talking about?" she asked, following him worriedly.

"My grandfather. With every step I take, I hear him through the Force." His eyes looked haunted and ancient. "I've heard him since I was little, whispering to me. Telling me to do things. Asking me to finish what he started."

"Finish what he started?" she asked, taking his hands. "I don't understand."

"To rebuild his empire. Become a Sith. Destroy his family. I don't want to be like that," he confessed in a small voice, stepping closer to her. 

"You're not," she said, cupping his face and meeting his eyes. 

"I tried becoming a Jedi to learn against it, but the temptation of the Dark Side was still there, stronger than ever. So I stopped all my Force training altogether. I couldn't let myself go down that path," he said nervously, eyes pleading with her to understand. 

She shook her head. "You're better than that. You've already chosen."

"So had he," he admitted, his body starting to shake. "He had a wife, children on the way, and he sought power to prevent his wife from dying. He got the power, and he killed her! One false move was all it took."

"He acted out of fear. Are you?" she asked, making him pause. 

"No. Yes." He closed his eyes as doubts filled him. "I don't know. But I don't want to be like him."

"But you're  _ not him _ . What don't you understand about that?" she asked, rubbing her thumbs along his cheekbones. "You're Ben. Just because you have a legacy doesn't mean you have to follow it, or run away from it. You can just be you."

His eyes slowly opened, revealing an awestruck expression. "How?"

"By accepting and recognizing that you  _ do _ have those tendencies and then choosing a different path. Running away doesn't change or stop it," she said gently. "It's still there, just like it is now for you, I bet."

"Yes," he said, hanging his head. "How can I defeat it? It's always been there."

"The same way you fought it back all this time: by staying with those you love, the ones who remind you what is important." She lifted his chin with a small smile. "Like Chewie."

"Or you," he said with a warn smile.

"Wha--"

At that, he kissed her. Rey remained frozen a second, and when she woke up and realized she wasn't dreaming, she kissed him back, hands finding his neck and hair. 

When they came up for breath, both had swollen lips and didn't move far apart.

"Ben," she breathed, hands still clutching him. "I thought I had been imagining it all this time."

"No. Don't be afraid; I feel it, too."

"Then let's get this crystal and get out of here. We can discuss the possibility of working together jointly on a regular basis after that," she suggested, tugging him toward the final door.

"Let's."

Together, they opened the final door, revealing a pedestal with a single, clear kyber crystal sitting atop of it. 

"Take it, Rey. I'll cover you," he said, squeezing her hand and kissing her. 

"Okay."

Even standing in front of it, she couldn't hear it. Still, she reached for it. 

As soon as her fingers touched it, it cracked. A wave of energy echoed through her, and her vision went black.

\--------------

_ Rey wakes from the vision, breathless and back in the mirror cave. On the ground, she sees the saber, as well as the broken kyber crystal from the vision, and she understands Ben and his family just a little more.  _

_ "Where did I go?" _

  
  
  
  
  
  



	3. Resisting Rey

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey is transported to a universe where His Grace Ben Solo and governess Rey find each other, despite their differences.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have had so much fun writing this collaborative piece with my friends in The Writing Den. The discussions, the brainstorming, and the enthusiasm we've shared has inspired us all to write something a little out of our comfort zones! We hope you enjoy this installment of "Shattered, Yet Unbroken."

In the mirror cave, Rey is on her knees now, panting for breath, the weight on her chest intensifying as the vision fades. A sharp slice of pain seems to pierce her heart, and the air feels as though it’s being sucked out of the room as she feels another vision coming on, and braces herself, gasping, “ _Ben--_ ”

***

_Rey’s eyes blink rapidly as she attempts to place herself. The landscape here is green, but not the lush jungle tones of Takodana, nor the mossy hues against gray stone she’s accustomed to seeing on Ahch-To. It’s a cool, flat green; damp, but tempered by a brisk wind that makes her wrap her cloak more tightly around her._

_She looks down in consternation. Atop her wraps and leggings, she’s now wearing a cloak. An unfamiliar clattering sound assaults her ears, and her head whips up to see a foreign mode of transportation. Are those...horses? She’s only ever read about them, and they seem to be pulling some sort of box that rests on the ground atop large, rotating circles._ Wheels _, her mechanical brain supplies._

_Rey spies a rider atop the box, and raises her hand in greeting. Before she can take more than a few steps toward him, she’s yanked into another vision, mind reeling._

***

His Grace Benjamin Solo, Duke of Alderaan, worked quietly at the large desk that had been in his family for generations. The vast expanse of wood was covered in the paperwork of his trade: management of his estates, lists of tasks or items required by his tenants, acquisition and trading of his holdings and funds.

Amidst the stacks of official-looking parchment, colorful pictures and creations lay scattered. A small watercolor of a tall man and a tiny girl. A clumsy needlepoint whose text reads _Papa, I love you_...if one squints. Fine, neat handwriting printed above larger and looser attempts at penmanship.

Ben smiled down at these breaks from the responsibility of business, his eyes crinkling softly at the corners.

His door burst open without warning amid a flurry of footsteps and giggles.

“Papa! You’ll never guess what we’ve found today!”

Ben grinned and stood from his high-backed chair, opening his arms for his daughter to launch herself into them.

“Tell me, young Hannah. What have you discovered?”

His daughter, with her long raven tresses and honey-brown eyes, reminded him so much of himself that it made his heart squeeze every time he rested his gaze upon her. He was thankful that all she seemed to have inherited from her mother were the dainty point of her nose and the slightness of her stature.

Ben was, thankfully, pulled away from dangerous thoughts of his ex-wife by his daughter’s infectious enthusiasm. “Butterflies! We’ve found some plants that attract them very well, and when Rey and I sit in the garden, they will land on us!” Hannah bounced enthusiastically.

“Miss Kenobi,” Ben corrected dutifully, though the sound of the woman’s Christian name was pleasing to his ears as it rolled so naturally off his daughter’s tongue.

“I’m here,” the woman in question announced breathlessly, sweeping into the room, hazel eyes darting to Hannah, keeping close track of her charge. Rey--Miss Kenobi, Ben corrected himself internally--straightened her skirts and tucked a few stray hairs back into her customary three buns, which had surely escaped in her pursuit of his daughter. “I’m so sorry, Your Grace; she certainly is getting faster as her enthusiasm to share with you grows.”

Hazel eyes twinkled up at him and Ben could see that Rey wasn’t in the least bit sorry for letting Hannah interrupt his work. She’d burrowed her way through, past, and beneath many rules of the aristocracy that she believed to be “unhealthy for Miss Skywalker,” one of which was the distance from a parent a young lady was expected to affect.

Ben had protested, both authentically and in an effort to do what had been expected of him, but in her three years with their family, Rey Kenobi had worn him down in more ways than one.

Her kind patience, her firm convictions, her quick mind--all were assets to his daughter’s tutelage, and befitting a governess, to be certain.

But her slender curves, freckled skin, chestnut hair he longed to see unbound...those exhausted Ben. For a busy Duke, to work a sixteen-hour day was nothing. Ben could do it routinely with the aid of a strong cup of tea and a brisk walk. But resisting Rey, with her sparkling laugh and bright eyes, took all of his effort, leaving him exhausted at the end of each day.

She was a governess; he was a Duke. He was ten years her senior, and a divorcee; she was young and fresh and unspoiled. Ben had lost track of the times he’d told himself all the reasons he couldn’t sweep her into his arms, his bed, their lives, as he’d longed to.

But he swore that she shared his longing. In their moments of solitude, a quiet fire crackling between them in the hearth, whose heat rivaled the attraction in the room, Ben could often feel her eyes linger upon him. Whenever he glanced up, though, her eyes were fixed properly on her books or correspondence, a small smile upon her perfect lips.

Ben held back a groan now as he was treated to a tantalizing glimpse of Rey’s tanned skin, as she bent to adjust her shoe, which had loosened in her haste. He noted that, as usual, she’d forgone stockings, preferring boots to the slippers that often required such a foolish garment. As such, her ankle flashed from beneath her skirts as she quickly lowered them, which she’d raised only a scant inch or two, but to Ben’s starved eyes, the sight was a feast.

“Papa, you must come and see the butterflies!” Hannah pleaded, tugging at his shirtsleeve impatiently.

“Another time, my little love,” he rumbled at his daughter, pulling her onto his lap as he resumed his seat at his desk. “Do you see all this I must accomplish? The work of a Duke is never done.”

“Nor is the work of a father,” Rey said firmly, looking pointedly down her nose at him from across the expanse of his desk.

“Ah,” he said, chagrined. “Quite. A compromise, then, is in order: we shall take a turn in the garden at tea time today, or perhaps early on the morrow. Will that please you, little one?”

“Yes, Papa!” Hannah agreed, beaming. She pressed a kiss to his cheek, and he smiled, cheek creasing beneath her lips, before his daughter hopped down onto the floor and hurried over to Rey.

“Papa is going to come see the butterflies! How wonderful, don’t you think, Miss Kenobi?”

Rey smiled down at Hannah, not missing the perfect manners she was using in the throes of her delight. “Certainly, darling. Now let us retire to the library to practice your arithmetic, and leave your father in peace.”

Hannah groaned dramatically, but Rey merely ruffled her hair and patted her charge on the back as the young girl left the room.

“Your Grace, I did not mean to disagree--”

Ben raised a hand. “Say no more, Miss Kenobi. You were quite right. Always are, in fact,” he admitted, smiling ruefully. “I do heed by your advice, as I value it highly.”

“Well,” Rey said, blushing slightly, “I thank you, Your Grace.”

“Please, call me Benjamin, or Ben,” he asked her again, for the hundredth time.

“It would not be proper, my lord, and isn’t that my role here? To teach Miss Skywalker of propriety? That is, in fact, why her name is Skywalker, and not Solo, correct?” Rey arched a brow at him.

He sighed. “Yes, of course.” To be sure, his mother’s line carried the aristocratic weight in the family; the Dukedom had transferred to Ben upon the death of his grandfather, and the deference of his uncle, who’d rejected the title outright. As such, Benjamin’s full name carried the titles of the Duke of Alderaan, Earl of Skywalker, and Viscount Solo.

Not wanting the Skywalker name to die out, Ben had acquiesced to his mother’s request to give Hannah the surname, as the firstborn child of the Duke, whether male or female, was due to receive.

“Well, Miss Kenobi, you have taught me that some rules can be bent, and others are meant to be broken. Perhaps one day, you will unbend enough to call me by my given name.” He smiled at her, and did not miss the way her eyes worked to conceal her pleasure at his gesture.

“We shall see,” was all she said, dipping into a brief curtsey before sweeping out of the room, her green skirts swishing becomingly behind her, even as utilitarian as they were.

Ben sighed and scrubbed a hand down his face. He wondered, not for the first time, if his life might have been different had he met Rey many years ago. If he’d have bent and broken and damned the rules to marry a woman below his station, if only to satisfy the laws of his heart.

But had he done so, he’d not have been gifted with Hannah, so as always when he thought of the past, he let his regrets fade away in the light of that singular blessing.

He replaced his spectacles on his admittedly aristocratic nose, returning to his work with a sigh, determined to make progress before his teatime date with two of the most important women in his life.

* * *

When Ben emerged from his office and approached the parlor, he realized he’d need to amend the nature of his date to include the _three_ most important women in his life. His mother, Duchess Organa, sat laughing with Hannah on her lap, as Rey entertained the Skywalker women with some story or another.

When his governess caught sight of him at the door, he gestured for her to continue, and leaned against the frame to watch. Rey concluded her story, a faint blush staining her cheekbones, and his mother and daughter giggled in delight at the conclusion.

“You tell the best stories, Rey,” his mother complimented, plucking a biscuit from the tea tray and handing it to her granddaughter with a flourish. 

“She does,” Hannah agreed from her perch. “I keep telling you, Grandmama Leia, that Rey should be my new mother.”

Rey choked on a biscuit, and Ben’s eyes went wide. _Well, they’d kept that particular tidbit of information from him._

“I know, darling, but your father and your grandfather are very similar. We must allow them to take much too long to make simple decisions.”

Ben shook with silent laughter, and now, Rey really couldn’t swallow the biscuit, despite taking a gulp of tea, and at this point, the other woman focused on her coughing with concern, Leia removing Hannah from her lap to thump Rey between her shoulder blades.

“My, my, what did I miss?” Ben asked, choosing that moment to make his entrance.

“Hello, dear,” his mother greeted blithely, supremely unaffected by the fact that she’d just been talking about marrying him off and also saved Rey from choking to death. “How goes the Dukedom?”

“Mother,” Ben said, pressing a kiss to her proffered cheek, “the Dukedom goes as it always does. Reliably so, along with the lands and estates.”

Leia tutted. “As though Falcon House would do anything but. Why, it’s been the seat of our family for twelve generations--”

 _“Fourteen,”_ growled Ben.

“--and it’s survived even your fool of an uncle and your zealot of a grandfather. I hardly think you could err any further.”

Ben took a seat in one of the low armchairs and poured himself some tea as his mother spoke. “Right, other than the scandal of the...separation, and the inheritance of the title at such a tender age, and all my poor decisions made whilst under the advisement of such a terrible solicitor...I have made no mistakes to speak of.”

Rey flushed crimson and made to stand, no doubt to hustle Hannah out of the room in the face of these discussions, as she was wont to do. Leia had obviously thought along the same lines, and bade Hannah fetch her a recent sample of her needlework.

When Hannah had scampered off, and Rey had covered her movement by topping off Leia’s tea, the matriarch merely stared at her son. “My dear, I blame Snoke and my own inattention for those shortcomings, as I have always told you. 

“And Miss Kenobi, do not trouble yourself to shield your or my granddaughter’s ears to this talk. She will no doubt hear it from her peers, and I for one am _proud_ that you, Benjamin, have separated yourself from a _harlot_ such as the former Miss Netal, and have _quite_ sharp wits about you despite being prevented from thinking very much whatsover around Mister Snoke.” With a smart nod, Leia finished her speech and sipped her tea.

“Are you quite done, Mother? I do believe you’ve taken a decade off Miss Kenobi’s life.”

Certainly, Rey was looking a little pale, as she often did when privy to the sordid details of the Skywalker legacy. Ben felt his heart sink in his chest. Another tick in the column against him, in Rey’s eyes.

Leia scoffed. “Rey is made of sterner stuff. She would never shy away from scandalous conversation, nor do something as reprehensible as flit off to France with a lover, as Bazine did. Of all the irresponsible, despicable--”

“I am quite aware, Mother,” Ben interrupted smoothly. “We have been over all this before.” And indeed they had: Ben’s rivalry with his uncle, his years away in the gambling hells, the poor advice he’d taken from Snoke in so many areas, perhaps the most glaringly obvious of which was his encouragement for Ben to marry a highborn woman such as Lady Bazine Netal of Renfield, whose dowry was scant but title promised to be impressive. In a fit of rebellion against his oft-absent parents, he’d done it, but Bazine hadn’t been suited to the life of a Duchess. The duty to play hostess, socialize with ladies of the _ton,_ and provide an heir and a spare was too much for her, and she’d fled to France soon after Hannah had been born, with nary a backward glance. She’d granted him a divorce with no fuss, quite happy to be free of her ties to him so she could pursue other, more fleeting pleasures.

Ben’s marriage, ascension to Duke, and divorce in such rapid succession had caused quite the scandal in the _ton_ , indeed, but like most things, it had blown over in the wake of other, newer gossip.

And Ben was left alone, with no idea how to manage a Dukedom, nor a daughter.

He’d scraped by on a rotating cast of nannies and time with his parents for years, but when Hannah had turned four, he’d allowed his mother to hire on the governess she’d long been pestering him to procure.

And now here they all were: the divorced Duke, the meddling matriarch, and the gorgeous governess.

On cue, Hannah burst back into the room--his happy, resilient Hannah, who hardly seemed to mind at all that she didn’t have a mother, and who was remarkably well adjusted for an only child.

Hannah chattered to Leia about her latest needlepoint effort, an ornate hat topped with colorful flowers, and Ben glanced over to find Rey’s eyes on his, warm in sympathy. Rey, who seemed to understand as few others did his constant fear of disappointing everyone under his care. Any time he fretted over his lands or tenants, Rey appeared at his elbow with tea and a calming word. When he worried for Hannah’s education or happiness, she reassured him with candid stories of her own vagrant childhood.

It had gotten to be such a routine that Ben found himself seeking out Rey when he felt uneasy or anxious, and she was always there. This afternoon was no exception, and she wordlessly handed him a small plate piled with sandwiches and biscuits, turning to tell Leia about all of Hannah’s practice with her ladies’ hobbies.

By the time Leia allowed Hannah to lead her away to the nursery for story time, Ben’s head was clearer. Rey stood to gather the tea things and depart, but he stopped her with the brush of a finger against her sleeve.

“I’m sorry you were witness to such an embarrassing scene, Miss Kenobi.” His murmur was soft and still tinged with shame, but the apology needed to be made.

“Your Grace...Ben,” she murmured, and Ben’s eyes flew to hers at the sound of his Christian name upon her lips, “do not be ashamed of your past decisions, for they all led to Hannah, and how can that be a cause for embarrassment? Indeed, I agree with your mother. You should be proud.”

She smiled softly and hefted the tea tray, exiting the room with a quick glance over her shoulder, where Ben still sat, frozen in his chair.

* * *

It was no wonder the day had exhausted him, Ben mused, donning his dressing gown. He raked a hand through his hair and moved from the sitting room to his bedchamber, his faithful valet Threepio waiting for him.

“A shave, Your Grace?” Threepio offered.

Ben sighed in gratitude and sank into the washchair in the corner, smiling and mumbling a thanks as his valet wrapped his face in a hot towel. After lathering his jaw, Threepio produced a razor and began to shave him with precise, even strokes.

“Threepio?” Ben asked.

With his eyes closed in relaxation, he missed the way Threepio’s eyes widened at the movement of his master’s mouth. “Yes, Your Grace?”

“Women. What is it...about them? That drives a man crazy?”

Threepio chortled at this slow question. “I cannot say. I myself do not enjoy talking with ladies often. I much prefer the companionship of a novel or the papers. But I do believe this frustration is universal in both gentlemen and commoners alike.”

As always, Threepio’s melodic voice soothed Ben. “That is some reassurance.”

A brisk knock at the door gave Threepio pause in his task; “one moment, please,” he called, then finished his work with one long swipe before answering the knock.

“Ah, Lord Solo, come in. His Grace will be delighted to see you.”

“My thanks, Threepio,” the booming voice of Han Solo returned. Ben opened his eyes to see the gentle smirk and crinkled crow’s feet of his father’s face, which so often lived on his own, these days. “Hey, kid,” Han greeted his son, who stood to accept a hug from his father. Ben still lamented the fact that he had to bend down to return the embrace; time was moving steadily, and as quickly as Hannah grew, so too did Han Solo.

“How was your trip, Dad?” The informal endearment fell from Ben’s lips more easily each time he used it, and it felt good to make his father smile.

“It was great, son,” Han answered, taking a seat before the fire. “Your mother tells me you all had quite the chat this afternoon at tea.”

“She certainly had a great deal to say,” Ben agreed, flopping down opposite his father. “About Miss Kenobi, too,” he groused.

Han’s eyebrows rose. “Rey? I like her. Always have. Good head on her shoulders.”

“Well. Good. That’s...that’s good. Dad, the thing is, I think--”

Han laughed as Ben stumbled over the words. “I know, kid. You like her too. So what are you waiting for?”

“Dad, I can’t. Look at me. Divorced, father, the _haute ton_...so many reasons.”

“So? Look at your mother and me. A highborn woman and a horseman? Nobody would’ve thought it was a respectable match. But in spite of all that we’ve been through, we’re happy. And we have you.” Han spread his hands, and just like that, it all seemed so simple to Ben.

“You’re right.” He leapt to his feet. “Dad. I know what I have to do.”

Han smiled up at his son. “And I know you have the strength to do it.”

Another knock on the door presaged Ben’s hasty exit, and he threw the wood open with a whoosh of air. His mother stood on the other side, looking perplexed.

“Have you seen Hannah? She’s not in her nursery, and Rey and I are frantic. We can’t find her!”

“Alert the footmen!” Ben barked. “Where have you looked?”

“I already did,” Leia said. “We’ve searched the whole house. She must be outside somewhere.”

“The garden. The butterfly garden.” Ben dashed off, and Han leapt to his feet, hot on his son’s heels.

“Wait, darling,” Leia stopped her husband with a gentle touch. “Let him go.”

“We’ve got to find Hannah!” Han protested.

Leia giggled. “Hannah is sound asleep in her bed. But Rey is in the butterfly garden, all alone in the moonlight.”

“What--you--why, you sly, cunning little minx--” Leia stopped her husband’s stammers as she usually did, with a kiss.

“Welcome home, dear,” she murmured against his lips.

* * *

Ben dashed through the gardens, calling for Hannah, discarding his dressing gown as he sweated through his search, loose shirt billowing around him as he ran.

“Hannah! Hannah, my girl! Where are you?”

“Your Grace?” he heard, and turned to see Rey, looking altogether calm, before him.

“Where’s Hannah? We have to find her!”

Rey laughed uneasily. “She’s asleep in bed. I’ve just finished reading to her for the night. Are you all right, Your Grace?”

Ben’s brow furrowed, his chest heaving as he caught his breath. “What do you mean? My mother just--” he broke off with a growl. “ _My mother,_ indeed.” He shook his head. “What are you doing out here?”

Rey smiled grimly. “Your mother, indeed. It would seem she would like for us to talk, because she sent me out here with a frantic story of losing track of Chewie.”

“I’m sorry,” Ben said, apologizing to her for the umpteenth time that day--how did this slip of a woman keep him so off-balance?--and then glancing down at Rey more carefully, only to realize that she was as underdressed as he. The thin muslin of her nightdress peeked out at him from beneath a cozy-looking dressing gown, and he gulped as he saw that her hair was unbound behind her back. As though beyond his control, his hand stretched out to touch it, fingers trapping a long tress to pull it over her shoulder and between his fingers.

“Rey,” he breathed, looking from his fingers to her hazel eyes, which were wide on his. She looked breathless, like a frozen doe, and he stepped back from her quickly.

“Forgive me,” he stammered. “It’s been quite a day.”

“Of course, Your Grace,” she said carefully, and then surprised him by taking a step forward to close the space between them once more. “But I liked it. You touching me.” Ben swallowed back a groan. 

“I like so much of what you do to me,” she continued. “How you talk to me. How you look at me. Like I matter to you.” Rey reached out a hand, gliding her fingers down the bare skin of his chest where it shone, pale in the moonlight, above the half-buttoned fabric of his nightshirt. He shuddered, clenching his fists at his sides. His eyes drank in every detail about Rey that they could from this proximity: the delicate arch of her collarbones, the slender strength of her wrists, the curve of her neck he longed to free from the confines of its dressing gown and kiss for hours…

“It’s been quite a day,” she repeated, “but...it could be quite a night, too.”

Ben looked at her closely, his eyes blazing. “Rey, what you are saying, what you are _suggesting_ \--”

Rey laughed and lifted a hand to his neck, where her fingers toyed with his hair. “Ben, you must know how much I love Hannah. I have come to love you just as much. Please, let me take care of you. Let me give you this night.”

Ben grasped her wrist, trapping it in his fingers. “I don’t want tonight,” he bit out.

He watched as her face fell.

“No, Rey--you misunderstand. I don’t want _just_ tonight.” Rey blinked at him. “I don’t want a mistress. I want a wife. I want a mother for Hannah. A daughter for my parents. I have wanted _you_...and all of that, with you...for so long.” He laughed hoarsely. “ _So long._ Since I first laid eyes on you, it seems.”

Rey grinned, her bright smile illuminating the night. “Well, Your Grace, I am yours. All yours.” Ben's heart soared. How was it possible for a man to be blessed with so much happiness in one lifetime?

Ben drew her into his arms. “Not only mine. _Ours._ ” With that--a promise, a vow--he tipped her head back with two fingers beneath the soft skin of her chin, her eyes hooded in the moonlight. “Rey, be mine. Be ours.”

“Yes,” she whispered, and rose in her heeled boots just enough to press her lips to his, and Ben drank in the flavor of her generosity, her tenderness, her understanding. It was the sweetest thing that had ever passed his lips.

Rey pulled back from the kiss with a tinkling laugh. “Look, Ben. A butterfly.” He lifted his head briefly to watch blue wings flutter past them, the beautiful insect circling their entwined figures before coming to land on Ben’s broad shoulder. “It seems like the universe approves.”

He smiled in agreement as she lifted a hand, hoping to steal a touch before her chance fluttered away.

“I’m glad. I’m so glad, Rey.” As he lowered his mouth to hers once more, Rey’s fingers touched the gossamer wings on the butterfly’s cerulean back, and it all dissolved before her eyes as they fluttered closed in bliss.

***

_Back on Ahch-To, Rey opens her eyes and sees a blue butterfly as it floats across the cavern, where she lies, flat on her back, gasping for breath. Her vision swims as she clutches a fist to her chest, where she feels an even heavier weight than before pressing her down into the cave’s floor, the shattered remnants of a red, and now a blue, kyber crystal surrounding her._

_Another vision, another universe. Another ending for the two of them that was far happier than the one she’d come here to rectify._

_Rey grits her teeth and pushes herself to her knees. She needs to find Ben; to bring him back--but as she rises, the world narrows down to a pinprick, and she is pulled into the beyond once more._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Connect with us on discord, twitter, or here on AO3 via comment.


	4. Symbols Of Affection

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A mysterious artifact appears at the Coruscant Art Museum that doesn't seem to allow anyone to get close to it, except for the Chief Curator Ben and the museum technician, Rey, who has captured his heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first collaboration fic and it has been so much fun! Getting to know some of the members in our fandom better through writing this story has been wonderful. I am SO excited to contribute this chapter to our story for The Writer's Den positivity week!
> 
> I hope you all enjoy this next part as we head to a modern setting!
> 
> (Disclaimer: I know nothing about working in a museum, so I apologize for any misinformation!)

The sound of dress shoes clicking across the polished parquet flooring echoed off the walls as Ben walked through the empty gallery. The early morning hours were his favorite; the hazy light poured in as the sun rose, casting shadows onto the numerous paintings that lined the halls. He made his usual diversion by the American art gallery, pausing briefly to admire Martin Johnson Heade’s painting of a blue butterfly, _The Blue Morpho_. He’d always felt drawn to the significance of the contrasting wings; one brightly illuminated, the other shaded in darkness. 

The Coruscant Art Museum was one of the biggest tourist attractions in the city. Every day the halls filled with locals and tourists alike, exploring the thousands of paintings and artifacts scattered across the museum’s five sprawling floors. As the chief curator, he took pride in knowing that each exhibit had been painstakingly created to showcase the most famous and interesting works of art at their best. 

Ben arrived at his office on the fourth floor, switching on the lights and setting his things by the door. Turning on his computer, he took a seat at the large mahogany desk and waited for the screen to load. In the stillness of the room, he could feel something different. Something that hadn’t been there before that morning. It was almost like a faint hum that vibrated subtly through the building. The feeling was mysterious and intriguing as though it seemed to call out to him. 

Shaking off the strange sensation, he opened his email and got to work. 

“You need to come downstairs,” a frantic voice interrupted him later that morning. 

Ben glanced up to see one of the museum technicians, Finn Storm, standing in the doorway. His eyes wide as he frantically gestured with his hands. 

“Is everything okay?” He stood up and walked around the desk. 

Finn shook his head vigorously. “I don’t even know how to explain it, it’s something you need to come down and see for yourself.” 

He followed the other man to the nearby bank of elevators and they rode down to the basement where the prep rooms and archival storage were located. Ben heard the murmur of excited commotion as they rounded the corner and entered the second door on the right. 

Rose Tico and Armitage Hux, two of the archivists, were sitting off to one side of a table near the center of the room. Rose’s right hand was wrapped in a bandage while Hux sat with an ice pack pressed to his head. Finn stopped several feet away and shook his head, refusing to move closer. The only person who didn’t seem to be injured or affected by whatever was going on, was another museum tech, Rey Jackson. 

“What’s going on?” he asked, glancing around the room. Nothing seemed out of place, yet nearly everyone around him seemed frightened or confused. 

Rey stepped aside and revealed the object on the table. At first glance, it appeared to be a dodecahedron, likely of Roman origin by his initial estimation. The brushed bronze exterior was covered in dozens of carvings, but as he came closer for a better look, he noted that they appeared to be unlike any symbols or runes that he’d seen. 

“We have no idea where it came from. It arrived after hours last night as an anonymous donation,” Rey explained. 

“I’m not familiar with this style of carving,” Ben noted as he attempted to pick up the artifact. 

“Don’t touch it!” Rose immediately yelled. “It’s cursed!” 

He stopped and slowly turned towards the younger woman who held up her bandaged hand. “Cursed?” he questioned skeptically. 

She nodded. “Hux and I opened the box this morning. I tried to take it out first and it burned my hand and when he tried, the thing shot him across the room into a bookshelf. Rey’s the only one who can get close without it causing harm, for some reason that thing only lets her hold it.” 

“It may let me hold it, but it’s not happy,” Rey clarified. “It gives me this uneasy feeling that I can’t shake unless I set it back down.”

“May I?” Ben asked as he reached for the object again just as Rey grabbed for the other side, both of their hands touched the artifact at the same time. 

Nothing happened. 

She looked up at him with a bewildered look on her face. “That’s strange, I usually feel off when I touch it. Did you feel anything?”

Ben shook his head. 

“Can I look it over for a moment?” he asked, pulling the object towards him. As soon as she released the artifact he felt a jolt through his body, and the sense of uneasiness that Rey referred to came over him. 

“Are you okay?” Rose asked as she observed the change in his expression. 

“I think so, but I understand what she was talking about now,” he replied before turning to Rey. “Here, grab the other side again.” 

She did and the feeling immediately stopped. 

They spent the next hour examining the mysterious object and consulting every resource they could find to make sense of the curious markings carved around the exterior. The artifact stumped everyone they spoke to, from the museum’s director, his Uncle Luke, to the conservator, Amilyn Holdo, and the numerous experts they contacted looking for any small hint or clue. Each lead they followed reached a dead end, and as they neared the late afternoon hours, they were no closer to figuring out the mystery. 

“I don’t know what to tell you, kid,” his Uncle Luke said as he entered the room to check on their progress. “There’s definitely something about it though.” 

They’d learned from Luke’s first visit earlier in the day that he’d felt a similar sensation as Ben and Rey, describing it as a troubling force of sorts. Like their coworkers, the object had no interest in letting the older man nearby and gave him a terrible headache if he attempted to get too close. 

“Knock, knock,” a familiar voice came from the doorway. “We come bearing some good shit.”

He looked up to see his father standing there, a wooden crate in his arms. His father’s best friend Charles “Chewie” Bacca stood close behind with a crate of his own.

“Is this good shit going to get my museum in legal trouble, Han?” Luke replied with a raised eyebrow. “You know how my sister feels about this.”

His father and Chewie traveled regularly and often brought back various paintings and artifacts that they had found. No one was entirely sure if they acquired the items by the most _legal_ means, but so far there had been no investigations or accusations brought against them. 

“Leia also likes that the pieces we find bring in new visitors and more money,” Han pointed out with a smirk. “I keep her happy, she keeps the board happy and we all keep our jobs. It’s a win-win.” 

Luke rolled his eyes. “The odds that you’re going to _acquire_ something stolen or illegal one of these days…”

“Yeah yeah, never show me the odds,” Han replied. “So, do we need to set these anywhere or what?”

Hux and Rose eagerly crossed the room to take the crates from the two men and headed into an adjacent room for intake and processing. 

“I’m going to uh, go and help.” Finn jumped up and quickly followed. 

“What’s up with them?” Han asked as he approached the table where Ben and Rey stood.

“Don’t get too close,” Rey warned. 

Han backed away with his hands up. “Hey! Have I ever broken anything?”

Ben snorted. “Not lately.” 

“It was _one_ vase, and it ended up being a fake, so I did you all a favor.” He groused before peering at the artifact. “That’s a fascinating piece.” 

“Fascinating is putting it lightly,” Luke replied with a chuckle. “These two are the only ones who can touch the damn thing without getting hurt.” 

Chewie grunted and walked towards the table, his massive hand reached out towards them. 

Ben shook his head. “I don’t want to see what this does to anyone else.” 

Another grunt and the hand extended again, this time more forcefully. 

“Maybe we should see -” Rey started.

Ben sighed and handed the object over, shivering at the unsettling feeling it provided as it left Rey’s grasp. 

When the artifact hit Chewie's hand, every hair on the large man’s body stood on end. From the thick mane on top of his head to his full beard, and the coarse hair on his forearms. 

“Well, that’s something.” Han whistled. “How are you doing there buddy?”

Chewie grunted again and shoved the object back at Ben, shaking his head as he took several steps back. 

“Told you,” Luke said smugly.

The day ended with no answers. The visitors and tourists left, and the employees began to return to their homes, leaving the museum blissfully quiet once again. 

“You two can leave it for tonight,” Amilyn told them when she stopped in before leaving for the day. “I have a few contacts overseas that haven’t gotten back to me yet, perhaps we’ll get an answer tomorrow.” 

Rey looked over at him hesitantly and gave him a quick shake of her head. She didn’t want to leave yet, and neither did he. 

“We’re going to stay just a bit longer,” he answered for the both of them. 

“Suit yourselves,” Amilyn waved her hand dismissively. “Don’t stay too late, we have that meeting with your mother and the board tomorrow morning, Ben.” 

They took a break briefly for dinner and left the museum to dine at a small Italian bistro down the street. It’s the first time he’d done anything with Rey outside of work, but certainly not the first time he’d thought about it. They’d been flirting around each other for months, ever since she started working at the museum that past summer. 

He remembered when he saw her for the first time, standing in the American art exhibit, admiring the same blue butterfly painting he visited every morning. 

She’d had his heart ever since then. 

“Thanks for staying late with me, Ben, I know this isn't exactly your job,” she told him over wine and appetizers. 

“I don’t mind,” he quickly answered. “Besides, I know what that thing does if only one of us is there. I wouldn’t leave you alone to figure it out for yourself.” 

She glanced down at her plate with a soft blush as she bit her lip. “Well, that’s very thoughtful of you Mr. Solo.” 

“Anything for you, Rey,” he replied seriously. 

Their conversation shifted to their favorite paintings and sculptures and then moved to the things they liked to do in the city. When he found out that she loved the same local band as he did, he didn't hesitate to ask her to attend a future concert with him. He had been thrilled when she immediately answered with an excited _yes!_

After dinner, they returned to the museum through a side entrance and immediately paused upon entering. He felt the same uneasiness, the same mysterious pull, but it had grown stronger.

“I feel it,” he murmured, looking carefully at Rey. 

“I feel it too,” she replied quietly, her tone somber. “It wasn’t this pronounced before.” 

“We should get back downstairs.” He nodded towards the stairwell at the end of the hall. “I’m not one for superstitions, but until we figure out what the deal is - I’m not too keen on getting in an elevator again.” 

Rey nodded in agreement. “Good call.” 

The artifact was still on the table where they had left it earlier. Its bronzed sides glowed under the single warm light overhead. The entire room seemed to pulse with more intensity around them as they approached. She nodded at him and they reached for the object together. 

The room went still as soon as their hands touched the surface. 

“I hate that feeling,” Rey shuddered once the mysterious hum had ceased. “What are we supposed to do if we can’t figure this out? If it keeps getting stronger?” 

He shook his head with a sigh. “Short of boxing it up and throwing it to the bottom of Savaam Lake, I honestly don’t know.” 

“And risk it causing a freak tsunami in the middle of Coruscant?” Rey arched an eyebrow. 

“I don’t think that lake can have tsunamis, sweetheart,” he grinned in return. 

She rolled her eyes. “Because normal artifacts we work with act as this one does. I wouldn’t put anything past it.” 

“Fair point,” he agreed. 

Two hours had passed when he noticed her first yawn. While they are no closer to figuring out the mystery of where it had come from, they have begun to notice subtle patterns in the engraving. It’s not much, but it’s been enough to keep them motivated to continue researching.

“We can call it a night if you’d like,” he told her after her second yawn. 

“No, no, I’m good,” she assured him, fighting back her third yawn. “I skipped my afternoon coffee, but I’m good.” 

An idea popped into his head. “Are you okay here by yourself for a moment?” 

She looked at him curiously and nodded slowly. “I guess.” 

“Great,” he grinned. “I’ll be right back.” 

Heading up the stairwell to the main floor, he slipped behind the counter at the museum cafe. His first job had been working as a barista there in high school with Maz, an old family friend who had been running the coffee shop there for decades. 

Turning on the familiar espresso machine he gathered the necessary ingredients and soon had two cappuccinos, _extra_ strong, and a couple of packaged cookies to take downstairs. 

She grinned widely when he returned and set the mug of coffee and a cookie in front of her. 

“Oh, I could kiss you!” She exclaimed before she realized what she'd said. “I mean, I -”

“You could if you wanted,” he interrupted. 

She walked around the table, her eyes never leaving his. “You’d like that?” 

He nodded. “I would.” 

She wrapped her arms around his neck and tilted her head up until her lips met his. Ben placed his hands on her waist, pulling her close as he deepened the kiss. He felt her smile against his mouth as she hummed contentedly, her body pressed firmly against his own.

“I’ve been wanting to do this,” she murmured against his lips. “So, _so,_ much.” 

“Me too, sweetheart,” he agreed. 

He kissed her again and ran his hands over her hips, lightly cupping her pert ass under the smooth fabric of the fitted skirt she wore. She bucked her hips towards him, rubbing ever so slightly against the bulge in his pants. Moving his hands along her sides, he lifted her onto the empty table beside them. 

She smiled and shimmied her skirt up to the top of her thighs, exposing the lace band of her nude stockings. Ben stood between her legs, smirking as she wrapped her ankles behind his waist. 

“Do you usually wear these under your skirts, Miss Jackson?” He murmured, tracing the skin on her thigh just above where the top of her stocking ended. 

“Wouldn’t you like to find out?” She answered with a coy expression. 

He took one hand and touched the button at the top of her blouse. “May I?” 

She replied with a quick nod of her head. 

He removed her shirt, exposing her creamy skin as he looked down at her in awe. The sheer fabric of her bra was just transparent enough to hint at what lay underneath the pale pink lace. She glanced up at him with a soft smile, her eyes darkened with arousal. 

“You’re so beautiful, sweetheart,” he murmured. “A priceless piece of art.”

His hand gently cupped one breast as he ran a thumb over the nipple through the fabric, feeling the tiny bud harden as she whimpered under his touch. He pulled her close for another passionate kiss, letting his body melt into hers. 

“I think our coffee is cold,” she smirked as they straightened their clothes and returned to their work table some time later. “Not that I’m complaining, that was _entirely_ worth it.” 

He watched as she picked up the white cup bringing it to her mouth and taking a long sip. 

“Good?” he asked.

“Perfect,” she sighed. “Do you have some fancy lounge upstairs that I don’t know about?” 

“Not unless there’s one that _I_ don’t know about.” He replied. “I snuck up to the cafe, I used to work there in high school.” 

She giggled. “I’m picturing teenage Ben as a barista, getting yelled at by Maz, it’s adorable.” 

“Hey now, she only yelled at me a few times a day.” He retorted. “I usually deserved it.” 

“I bet you did.”   
  


They finished their coffee and cookies before returning to the table where the artifact sat. To their relief, it seemed to be more stable than it had been after they first returned from dinner. Rey asked him to hold it in the palm of his hand while she turned it carefully, comparing markings to the ones they had found during their research. Some were reminiscent of Celtic symbols, while others appeared to be closer to the runes of the Futhark alphabet. 

“This marking repeats here, here, and over there,” she noted as she pointed to the various faces. “And this one appears here, there, there and oh - right here.” 

“The rest are different though?” He asked. 

She nodded. “It seems so.” 

He watched as she picked the dodecahedron up and gently placed her fingers on the repeating runes. Tracing each engraving lightly as she examined the pattern they made. Her brow furrowed as she passed over the last section, pressing gently on the surface. 

A faint glow emitted from within, growing rapidly as they looked on with shock and fascination. In a sudden instant, he felt himself being forcefully blown backward as a brilliant light filled the room, blinding him briefly. 

After his vision returned, the artifact had disappeared. 

And so had Rey. 

  
  
  


**** 

  
  


_Rey finds herself alone in the cave on Ahch-To. The dodecahedron lies at her feet, cracked open, with a shattered piece of kyber crystal inside the center._

_Frantically she looks around for any sign of Ben. He’s not there. He wasn’t there after the last two visions either, and she doesn’t know what all of this means. She only knows that she needs to find him.  
_

_She feels lost and empty, like waking up from a wonderful dream only to discover that it wasn’t real._

_Kneeling to pick up the remnants of the artifact, she feels the pull into the darkness once again._

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to Andrina_Nightshade, tmwillson3, and dyadinbloom for your help and support with everything. You all are the best and I have loved working with you!
> 
> Chapter title credit to tmwillson3 💛


	5. To Melt A Frozen Heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> From her ice castle in the land of Hoth, Rey awaits the arrival of a mysterious traveller...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Collaborating on "Shattered Yet Unbroken" has been an amazing writing experience. I have loved working alongside three such amazing, kind and talented writers.
> 
> This is a fantasy AU, heavily inspired by both Hans Christian Andersen’s “The Snow Queen,” and elements of “The Lion, The Witch and the Wardrobe,” by C.S. Lewis. The Rey of this universe is much darker than in some of the others... But HEA still guarenteed!
> 
> Content warning: references to murder, cruelty, and some body-shaming. 
> 
> Formatting note: the text in italics is Rey in the World Between Worlds. The text in bold represents dreams/visions.

_As forces tug at her, and pull her into another world, something feels different this time. Whilst her previous transitions could hardly have been described as pleasant, this one is like entering the heart of a sandstrom. Grit and dust fly around her; a particle gets into her eye and she rubs frantically at it._

_Then, pain - sharp and stabbing - fills her chest._

_The world unbalances, and she falls into blinding light._

* * *

**“Come on, Rey!” the little boy cajoled, flashing a crooked-teeth grin at her. “You’ll love what I’ve found!” He scrambled up the ladder at the side of their side of their tenement.**

**Rey rolled her eyes, and cast a glance around. At this hour, her godfather would still be abed. As long as they were quiet…**

**So, she followed him up the ladder.**

**She found him kneeling at the corner of the roof, his excitement a palpable thing.**

**“Look!” he said, beckoning her closer.**

**Rey crawled along the roof tiles, uncaring if her dress grew dirty. This place was** **their haven from adults and responsibilities and the world. Consequences came later; here, they were free.**

**In his hands, the boy cradled a bird’s nest. Or at least, the remnants of one. Something - likely a cat - had attacked it, clawed at the structure, and eaten the bounty it offered. But they had not been fully successful, for within lay a single small speckled egg, surrounded by the crackled shells and last remains of its siblings.**

**“We have to protect it, Rey.” the boy told her seriously.**

* * *

Pale sunlight peeked through the window, stirring Rey from her repose. 

She groaned. Those dreams had returned _again_ last night. Of herself as a small child, back in Chandrila. And in every dream was a boy. He was an ugly little thing, with hair black as pitch, overly large ears and moles on his face. Her imaginary friend, she supposed. A fiction created in the mind of a lonely and unloved little girl to fill the aching chasm.

Rey could not remember being as happy as the girl in her dreams.

For what use was happiness? The world was ugly; everything seethed with filth and corruption. Perhaps others could find some passing aesthetic beauty in the colours of a sunset, or in the faces and bodies of others. But not Rey. 

In every face, she saw the soul underneath, and it always disgusted her. Jealousy, greed, lust, hypocrisy, rage... deep down, every human was rotten.

Rey shook her head. The world was over-brimming with darkness and pain. Dwelling on it would only cause her more agony. And there was pain aplenty in her life.

Every morning she awoke ice cold, alone, and with a stabbing pain in her heart and behind her left eye.

Those pains had been there as long as she could recollect. When it had started, and what insult had caused it, was a blank in her memory. But every time she saw the darkness in another soul, that agony only intensified.

And so, she had fled Chandrila, and the constant assault of other’s evil deeds upon her vision.

Rubbing at her eyes to stifle the torment, if only for a moment, Rey shuffled out of bed. The balcony doors had been left ajar overnight - had she forgotten to close them? 

In the frigid air, she ought to be uncomfortable.

But Rey had been cold for as long as she could remember. Neither kiss of sunlight nor the lick of flame could coax warmth back into her skin. Even the thickest gowns and furs might as well have been as diaphanous and flimsy as spider’s web.

From the courtyard below, she heard the echoes of cackles. No doubt Hux and Pryde, taunting and tormenting some poor woodland creature they had captured. 

Her sprites were wont to engage in frequent acts of wanton cruelty. They were foolish beasts, overburdened with spite and petty jealousies. But they wore their faults with dignity, and none of the concealment and false gentility of humans. Whilst they irked Rey, at least she could respect their open acceptance of their natures.

And even their nuisance presence served to starve off her loneliness.

Amidst their cries, Rey heard another sound. A screeching overheard - a falcon, perhaps? She raises a hand to shield her eyes against the harsh, pale sunlight.

Against the white of the sky, a black dot circled incessantly. Too small to confirm her suspicions, but she felt confident that this was a falcon. (As to where this confidence came from, she could not account for, but she knew it with the certainty that night would follow day). 

For several moments, she watched the bird with rapt fascination.

Until she was pulled from her reverie but the caress of the North Wind against her skin. It ruffled the loose hair at her temples. **_My lady_ ** _,_ it whispered. **_A man approaches the river._ **

Rey grimaced. Humans rarely ventured into Hoth. The (now deceased) Ice King’s reputation had been deterrent enough. His wrath would be felt upon not only the perpetrator, but any unfortunate to be in their vicinity.

She ought to have followed her foster father's example. Sent the occasional autumnal frost to wipe out their crops before the harvest, or a month of endless snow until their doorways and windows were choked with it.

But she had despised his cruelty. And, as he lay slaughtered in his bed, and she had scrubbed his blood from her hands, Rey had sworn not to sink to such depths.

 _Perhaps_ , she thought irritably, _there had been a method in his madness after all_.

“Tell me more of this man,” she murmured. “What do you know of him?”

 ** _Little else,_** the North Wind told her. **_I believe he has climbed the Jakku range, for his hands are bloody and bandaged._**

“Then he is a fool,” Rey said. The Jakku mountains, which separated the domain of the Ice King - _her_ domain now - would tear a man’s hand to shreds. It ought to have served as a sufficient hindrance to prevent any from stumbling into Hoth. 

Only someone travelling with intent and purpose would even attempt it.

And that chilled her more than the ice in her blood.

“You said he approaches the river?”

If the North Wind had corporal form, perhaps it would have nodded. **_Yes, my lady. He pleads with the river to grant him safe passage._ **

“And does he travel alone, or am I to expect an invasion?”

**_No other human travels with him. His only companion is a falcon, which flies ahead to check his path._ **

Rey frowned. “Keep a close watch on him,” she told the North Wind. “Report back to me if he is able to cross.”

The river was not under her influence - no matter how thick the snow and frigid the air, it would stubbornly refuse to freeze. But the river spirit was a mercurial sort; it was as likely to carry the man safely as to drown him.

She hoped that, on this day, its worse influences would rule.

Rey leaned over the balcony, and her eyes narrowed on the two sprites still hooting and prancing around the snow-covered courtyard. 

“Hux! Pryde!” She barked. “Cease your pathetic games! Where is Phasma?”

Pryde dropped the creature they had been tormenting - a rabbit with pale fur barely visible against the stark whiteness of the snow. It scuttled away, and even several stories above, Rey saw his eyes darken with anger. But the thin, reedy voice which answered her was positively sycophantic. “I have not seen her all day, Majesty!” He bowed so low, his brow almost touched the ground.

“Nor I, Majesty!” Hux chirped.

Rey rolled her eyes. “Well, then find her, and send her to my throne room!”

* * *

She wandered the hallways of her castle. Walls, roof, windows, furniture, every inch made of ice. In the pale winter sunlight, everything was cast in a blue light, fractals dancing on the floor and the walls.

She paid it no head, and headed straight for the throne room.

The Ice King had brought Rey here almost ten years ago. His carriage had found her in the furthest outskirts of the woods, half-starved and almost fully feral. A plate of rose-flavoured jellies and clean robes later, some semblance of civility had returned.

If the humans of Chandrila were cruel, this man was darkness incarnate. She saw every sin a man could commit etched onto his soul. Blood seemed to paint his hands, and his smile was cruel. But she was starving, and that was enough to overcome her fear.

And he too was not ashamed of his darkness. He did not hide beneath a veneer of goodness. Not like the teachers and vicars and shopkeepers and children of Chandrila. They pretended their souls were pure as snow, when each of them were cold, cruel, jealous, angry, and their spirits stained dark as pitch.

No, as he sat on his throne and rained the evils of winter upon others, he _relished_ in his savagery.

It was her throne now. One she had never bothered to use.

But that was not what drew her to this room.

Instead, she sought the mirror which stood in the corner, concealed by a sheet.

She had seen the mirror only once before. The Ice King had shown it to her, a few weeks after her arrival in Hoth. 

It was as tall as a giant, and alway hidden away. With a flourish, her foster father had pulled away the sheet and revealed the cracked glass beneath.

It had been broken, once - that much she could ascertain. But someone had painstakingly reassembled it until it was whole (albeit still bearing the scars of its earlier insult) save for two small shards still missing.

“Where does it come from?” She had asked.

He chuckled darkly. “It has been around since the inception of the world, my child. It is older than civilization, than language. It has been in my possession for a thousand years.” His voice seemed to drip with greed and possession. 

“Any why is it broken?”

That swirling rage in which he always cloaked himself grew more virulent. “That is a tale for another day, young Rey.” His mouth twisted into that horrid smile. “What matters is that I have it all once again, perfect and whole.”

“But it is not whole,” she said mulishly. “There are two pieces missing, just here.”

She reached out to touch the dark glass, but a cold hand slapped hers away.

“Foolish child!” he snapped, then tried to affect that simmering tone he used whenever he had frightened her. It did not matter - the darkness in his heart was as visible to her as ever. “The mirror is powerful and dark. You must not use it, ever. For it only shows the darkness in the heart of man. As for the missing shards… I have all I need here.”

So the mirror had been covered once more. And the Ice King had never discussed or even acknowledged its existence again.

But Rey did not need the mirror. Her eyes alone were sufficient to reveal all the evil in one’s soul.

Although…

Perhaps it was madness; perhaps it was the imagination of a young girl surrounded only by sprites and evil kings… but Rey swore that sometimes the mirror seemed to _whisper_ to her. A chorus of soft yet malignant voices purring into her mind. 

And today, she had the urge to look upon it...

A single tug, and the covering fell away.

Amongst the cracks, she saw herself. Or rather, the darkness within herself. Her white gown stained and saturated with blood. A cruel smile on her lips. Swirling darkness and savagery within her gaze.

Her fingers brushed the glass. Instantly, the mirror seemed to thrum and vibrate. Those dangerously seductive whispers began anew...

 _Join us, sisters…_ it hissed.

The throbbing in her left eye intensified, as did the agony in her heart. It felt as though the organ would be ripped out of her very chest. Foolishly, she placed her free hand over her breast as if to guard it.

But she steeled herself against the pain, and pressed harder against the dark glass. 

“Show me the man,” she said imperiously. “The one who dares to breach my land.”

Her blood-stained reflection gave a glacial smile before she faded away. 

Shapes swirled and colours danced until they coalesced into the form of a human.

He was tall. Beneath the heavy woolen garments and thick cloak he wore, he was evidently broad too. His garb was that of an ordinary man. Not a knight or a soldier.

But the mirror stubbornly refused to reveal his face. Every other detail of his form was clear; but it was as though grease had been smeared over the glass where his visage should appear.

But his face was of no consequence. The mirror would also reveal his soul.

The man was angry; a constant rage seemed to simmer beneath him. And he was no stranger to violence - beneath his gloves, she saw bruised knuckles from when he had punched another man to a bloody pulp. His victim had hurt the man’s love - and the man had seriously contemplated killing him. He _had_ wrought violence on that particular soul, but had otherwise spared his life. (And she also saw the regret carved onto his very bones)

He was jealous; the sight of any lovers together, even in the chastest of embraces, caused envy to twist and sting in heart.

He was frustrated - he thought himself above humanity, the rest too blind and ignorant and self-obsessed to understand him. _Arrogant fool_ , Rey thought.

But, beneath all of that, the man was breathtakingly _lonely_. There was a chasm within him, almost a reflection of her own.

Rey snapped her gaze away from the mirror. Never had she felt so raw, exposed. Not even in the darkness of her own reflection...

“You called for me, my lady?” A voice yipped from the doorway. 

Rey’s eyes sought the source of the voice, gratified to find it was Phasma.

Phasma was a fox, twice as large and five times as clever as her peers. Her fur was snowy white, and her eyes, green and sparkling as emeralds, drank in every inch of the surroundings. 

“I require your services,” Rey said, hands folded behind her back, as the fox began to approach. “A human has found his way into Hoth. Assuming that the river does not consume him, I want to know his intentions. Seek him out, and once he has spilled his secrets, report back to me immediately.”

“I notice you do not ask me to dissuade him,” the fox said with a slow nod.

“That is correct.”

Foxes are great tricksters - and Phasma had the most cunning mind of perhaps any living creature. A few choice words, a subtle accusation, and she could bend the will of a man to any means. Yes, it would be a simple enough matter for her to send the man back from whence he came. 

But something - curiosity, mayhaps? - gnawed at Rey. 

Phasma yipped affirmatively, and turned to leave. 

“Oh, and Phasma? Have Hux and Pryde make up the unwanted guest room.” Rey gave a cruel wink with her left eye, and for the briefest moment felt the sting there abate. “Just in case.”

* * *

**The boy sat on the floor of his bedchamber, only looking up from his sketch of a butterfly when Rey clambered through his window.**

**He jumped to his feet, and pulled her into a bruising hug. “It hatched, Rey!” He smiled so wide that his cheeks dimpled. “Just this morning!”**

**The nest now contained a scrawny bird, with downy soft white feathers and an irritated scowl.**

**“I think he's hungry,” the boy said. He gestured to a plate of scraps: apple cores, off-cuts of meat and the solid crust of a day-old loaf. “But he doesn’t like anything here!”**

**“Baby birds need their mothers to chew the food first,” Rey said.**

**“Oh, that makes sense.” And he flushed scarlet to the tips of his ugly ears, before a grin broke out again. “Hey, we should call him Chewie!”**

**Rey snorted. “I am** **_not_ ** **calling him that! It’s undignified.” She ran a finger over the bird’s soft feathers. “We will call him Swift Wind.”**

**A few minutes bickering ensued, before the boy leapt to his feet, and darted out the door.**

**The chick gave an indignant squawk. Rey allowed its tiny head to nuzzle against her knuckles.**

**The door crashed open. The boy stood in the frame, panting and with a guilty smile on his lips. He held out his palm to show her two wooden dice.**

**Rey quirked an eyebrow. “Your father's dice?”**

**He nodded.**

**“Oh no!” she said. “Plutt told me about this! Your father cheats at gambling, and his dice are loaded!”**

**He bristled. “My father would never cheat! Plutt is just a sore loser!” He handed Rey the dice, and for a few minutes she turned them over with a scrutinising eye. They felt as any dice would - no mechanical rattle, nor the thrum of any enchantment. “Fine, Plutt** **_is_ ** **a sore loser,” she eventually said with a scowl. “You want to roll for his name?”**

**“Yes. Highest score wins.”**

**“Then, prepare to lose, Solo.”**

**“Ha! I shall take no pleasure in defeating you, Niima.”**

**They each took a die, and upon the count of three, rolled them.**

**Hers landed on a five.**

**His, a six.**

**“Yes!” The boy gave a triumphant yelp. “Chewie it is!”**

* * *

Rey awoke to the sting of teeth at her fingers.

“Apologies, my lady,” Phasma yipped as Rey rose from her bed. “I was able to get little from the man; not even a name. His falcon companion chased me away.” Her teeth bared in a sinister grin. “I request your permission to make a meal of that bird when we capture them.”

“Granted,” Rey said, rubbing a hand over her breastbone. Phasma would have caught the gesture, but Rey cared not. The pain in her chest was worse than ever. Her heart felt it was being constricted with tendrils of ice, and a single tear stung her eye. 

It galled her to show any weakness.

“Phasma…” she said slowly, and the fox inclined her head in response. “You did learn something?”

“Only that he seeks his love, lost long ago. She is believed dead; but he believes he will find her in Hoth.”

Something teased the edge of Rey's consciousness - a memory, a feeling - but it vanished before she could grasp it, like a wisp of smoke in the wind.

“Find Hux and Pryde,” she snapped, and Phasma visibly jumped at the ice in Rey's tone. “Capture this man, and bring him to me alive! The bird too,” she added warningly, seeing a hungry glow in Phasma’s eyes. 

She dismissed the fox with a wave, and began to pace in her chambers.

She felt adrift, unbalanced. It was like inebriation, only worse. Control, calmness, all slipped from her grasp. Deep in her marrow, she _knew_ this man was the reason. He had breached the borders of her land, despite every obstacle that ought to have deterred or killed him.

She would bring him to the castle; interrogate him. She would _know_ the truth of his coming here. (For she did not believe in love as a motive, no matter how prettily he might have spoken to Phasma. Love was a myth; merely lust given an acceptable name. She had watched many in the village profess their love to another, only to inflict petty cruelty and unkindness upon them.)

Rey spent a few minutes selecting a gown. She had no favourites - all were functional, and her skin would still chill no matter the layers she wore - but one of silver silk with billowing sleeves seemed the best pick. She brushed her long hair, and hastily braided it. 

The Ice King had gifted her with a diadem of sapphires. She had never worn it since his death. It’s teeth bit into her scalp, and even then it was a little too large for her head.

Besides, she needed no symbol of her authority. 

But, for tonight, perhaps a little ceremony would be in order… Something to wow and intimidate her prisoner, to remind him into exactly whose lands he had trespassed.

Fingers teased the hilt of her dagger; it had lain buried beneath a pile of furs in her wardrobe since the night she usurped the throne. 

She attached it to the belt of her gown. After all, it would not hurt to be cautious...

* * *

Rey sat upon her throne. But, after only a few minutes, she began to grouse. The throne was unyielding, and deeply uncomfortable. She contemplated summoning a sprite to fetch her a cushion, when the screech of a bird echoed along the hallway.

Followed shortly after by the irate tones of a man.

A cruel smile filled her lips. She could deal with the discomfort a little while longer.

Pryde entered first, brandishing a cage. Its avian occupant flapped and screeched, trying to nip at its captor. The sprite merely crackled louder in response.

Hux and Phasma followed, the chains they dragged clattering against the floor as the man struggled and swore. His voice was deep and smoky, and something flipped in Rey’s gut at the sound.

They maneuvered him to the centre of the throne room. Moonlight caught his face, bloodied and bruised. 

Rey had to quell a gasp.

For she recognised that ugly nose, too large ears, and hideous moles. The face that wore them was older, but it was unmistakably the boy who had long haunted her dreams.

Her voice betrayed nary a waver as she spoke. “Who are you, who would dare cross into the land of Hoth?”

His voice was equally steady, if a little hoarse. “My name is Ben Solo, and I come seeking the one I love. I I heard rumours of a girl - well, she would be a woman now - living in Hoth, and I _know_ it is her. Please, allow me to find her, and we will both leave you in peace.”

Rey rose from her throne, and slowly descended the steps. Her boots echoed on the ice floor. She stepped into the moonlight, and saw a look of awe cross the man who called himself Ben Solo’s face as her features were illuminated for the first time.

“Rey!” he said, a dimpled smile filling his tired features. He ceased struggling against his chains. 

Some new emotion arose in him, different from the anger and loneliness and arrogance and foolishness she had witnessed in the mirror. His eyes roved her form, and _lust_ filled his heart. The silver gown clung to her every curve, and though the neckline was not so low as to be indecent, his gaze lingered upon her breasts a moment too long.

Not five minutes in her presence, and already he wanted to bed her, claim her…

So much for love.

Teeth - just as crooked in her dream - began to worry at his lower lip. The delight upon his face melted to confusion, and she felt a frisson of fear from him. 

_Good,_ she thought. He should fear her…

“You… you do remember me, don’t you Rey?” he said, his tone plaintive. “Ben, your friend from Chandrilla? We used to play on the tenement rooftop, and pick apples in the autumn, and tell each other ghost stories, and-”

A piercing screech cut off his next words. The falcon began to fight harder against its captivity, knocking Pryde over with the strength of its fury.

“And Chewie, you _must_ remember Chewie!”

 _He lies…_ the mirror whispered to her. 

Rey began to approach him. Close enough that she could touch his hideous face, if she cared to sully her hands. He would only react with more lust. His emotions seemed to brush against her like an unwanted caress.

“Why do I dream of you?” She murmured as she stood over him.

A glimmer filled his eyes once more. “Those aren’t dreams, Rey. They’re memories - yours and mine.” He tore his gaze from hers. “I don’t know what happened to you these last ten years - I can’t even begin to imagine what you’ve suffered - but I have loved you since I was a little boy, and I _never_ gave up hope.”

If she believed in the goodness of humanity, Rey might have called his tone _earnest._ But it was naught but pretty lies to trick and seduce her. 

_He tries to poison your mind,_ the mirror whispered again. The pain in her eye grew to blinding, and her heart constricted so tight she feared it might stop altogether. But she was the Queen of Hoth, slayer of the Ice King… Words alone could not wound her.

She knelt before this man, this _Ben Solo_ , and searched his eyes for anything she had missed on her earlier inspection. Cold fingers teased the hilt of her dagger.

“Unchain him,” Rey said, with the merest tilt of her head to her minions, and his binds fell to the ground with a dull clatter. His relief was a palpable thing, and he suddenly lurched forward to grab at her.

But she was faster.

A look of surprised horror filled his features as he stumbled back, and stared numbly at the dagger protruding from his belly.

“Rey…”

That single word spoke volumes. Shattered hope, betrayal, regret…

As he fell, his fingers brushed her bare hands.

The skin _burned._

Rey gasped - how long since she had felt any semblance of heat, of warmth? The frigid air, her goose-pimpled flesh, her icy breath all suddenly hit her with the force of a storm.

 _“Do not cry over your lost friend,”_ her foster-father’s voice purred in her mind. _“I can right this pain. One kiss to numb, and one to forget.”_

As he - _Ben_ \- lay bloodied and groaning at her feet, a single tear pricked at her left eye, and fell to the ground with a dull clatter.

And suddenly, the pain in her eye was no more.

Her blood-stained hands hovered in the air. The sob that ripped from her throat echoed through every burrow and crevice and den in Hoth.

“Ben!” She cried, tears falling fast and heavy. She threw herself upon him, felt that wonderful _warmth_ of his skin even as he grew paler with every passing second.

How had she ever thought him ugly? Each mole upon his face was a star, together a beautiful constellation. His lips, curled into a tremulous smile, were perfect. Even the curve of his ears, a little too large for his face, was _charming._

What had she done?

Rey pressed her brow to kiss, let their tears mingle upon his cheeks, and shared his dying breaths with her own. 

Ben lifted a hand to her cheek - his touch an inferno on that frozen night - and brought her lips to his in a kiss.

And within Rey’s chest, something shattered. Agony gripped her heart, worse than the sting of the cold, or any pain she had ever known. 

But she refused to break the kiss. She kissed him as if it were her last act in this life, pouring every ounce of herself into this kiss, into him. Emotions she could not name - but so very different from every darkness and cruelty she had ever known - filled her, warmed her.

Ben’s hand grew limp against her cheek; it dropped, brushing over her heart as he died.

Still, she pressed her lips to his, now lifeless and cold.

Her heart broke.

And once again, she heard that dull clatter.

The pain in her heart - the _physical_ pain, she corrected herself - was gone. But the grief and drowning guilt was an infinitely worse anguish. 

Every moment of their childhood together rushed back to her, with the force of a whip crack. Childish pranks, petty arguments, secret adventures, mischief, and a single kiss beneath the stars one snowy night…

Ben had clung to that kiss, and it drove him to come here. 

She had forgotten it, and she had rewarded his devotion with death. 

Rey threw herself on his lifeless form, clinging to his bloodstained shirt, sobbing against his neck. Talons gripped her shoulder, and she felt the nuzzle of soft feathers at her temple. 

“Be with me…” she whispered against his cooling skin.

And then, so quick it stilled the breath in her lungs, Ben sat up.

This was a malady of her mind. This was grief-induced madness.

Until he pulled her into his arms, and she felt the warmth of his own tears against her neck.

How long they clung to one another, sobbing into their mutual embrace, Rey knew not. All she remembered was that beautiful, dazzling smile of his when he lifted his gaze.

“How are you not freezing?” he asked, and then that wondrous blush filled his cheeks, even to the tips of his ears. “Ah, damn! I -”

She cut him off with another kiss - this one desperate and passionate, until their lungs burned for air.

Ben wrapped his cloak around them both, a shield against the world. He lavished kisses to her brow and temple, murmuring endearments against her skin.

Rey’s fingers threaded themselves through his hair, soft as silk. “I’m sorry, my love.”

“I’m not,” he replied, and now she heard the earnestness in his tone. “I’m alive, you’re alive… That’s all that matters.” 

Her free hand came up to clutch at his heart, as if to reaffirm that it still beat - somehow - but her fingers brushed against something hard beneath his shirt. “What-”

“My father’s dice,” Ben said, laughing as Rey rolled her eyes. He tugged the string around his neck to reveal the dice. “He gave them to me, before I came here. Called me an idiot too, but said that I still needed all the luck in the world if I was to ever find you.”

Nestled in Ben’s embrace, warm for the first time in her memory, Rey brushed her thumb against the dice.

Behind them, the mirror shattered.

* * *

_And suddenly, Rey is pulled forward once more. Out of Ben’s embrace, clutching at those dice the same way he had in the dust on Crait._

_Except the dice too melt away, and she is left with another kyber shard in her palm._

_A feral scream escapes her._

_How many times must she do this? Witness another version of herself, happy with Ben, before being torn asunder once more? Taste the delight, the_ **_love_ ** _they could have shared, before the cup was dashed from their hands? One blessed moment of rightness and homecoming would never be enough._

_Losing Ben had been a misery beyond her imaging._

_But these teasing hints of a better life for them were not the comfort she had initially hoped._

_It was merely a more exquisite form of torture._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Come and say hello to us on Twitter/Tumblr:  
> @andrinanightsh1  
> @dyadinbloom  
> @greywilde27  
> tmwillson3.tumblr.com


	6. A Dyad Reunited

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Rey finds Ben at long last.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The conclusion is at hand! Thanks to everyone reading so far! This chapter is co-written by tmwillson3 and greywilde.

As the kyber crystal lands in her palm, her world becomes black once more, and her knees buckle, sending her to the cold, hard ground. 

When she awakens, Rey blinks away the blackness and rubs her behind after it landed harshly. The impact of the fall this time seems to have knocked her longer hair free of its usual hairstyle of three buns, as it's now laying loosely against her neck. 

The pebbled floor of the cave in Ahch-To doesn't get any easier to hit, and each Force vision only feeds her growing longing for Ben, a new restlessness within her because the fact still remains: she is still alone, despite him promising otherwise. 

A tear slips down her cheek, and she sits up, a gnawing ache within her that Ben couldn't keep his promise. Her arms wrap around her knees, and she trembles, her whole being seeking the one person who truly understands her. 

Closing her eyes, she seeks the Force, trying to understand why it keeps showing her Ben, but she can't focus. She can only see Ben, smiling at her, embracing her, kissing her. 

Her other half is gone, and she wants him back.

"Be with me."

For a split second, she's sure she felt _something,_ a stirring in the Force. It's too much to hope that it's a familiar presence, so she opens her eyes and stands up. Looking around, she notes the four kyber crystals on the ground in front of her -- one red, one blue, and two clear ones -- as well as Ben's old saber. 

She thought it had been shattered forever earlier, but it seems it was an illusion, just like the visions of her and Ben, happy together. 

When she tries to bend over to pick up all the items, she's shocked to discover that she can't move. She's frozen in place, and so she braces herself for another vision. When it never appears, she's left unnerved. 

Something is coming. She can feel it, rushing through her and creating goosebumps all along her skin. Fear of the unknown claws at her when she still can't move. 

"Be with me."

She barely chokes it out before another cloudy stone mirror appears in front of her, about ten feet away. The timing is suspect, but a small tendril of hope crackles within her, that fiery spit of hope still alive within her, if barely clinging on. 

Just like two years ago when she came to this cave seeking answers, she knows that all these visions had to lead somewhere. Now, she has broken items and a mirror. Deep down, she knows she has to face the mirror once more because if she has the courage to follow, it will show her what she has come to see. 

_Ben_.

The opaque glass fills with one dark figure this time, instead of two. Her heart stutters, and hope burns within her, brighter than ever. 

Somehow, she needs to cross the room, grab the objects, and touch the stone. She just _knows_ that if she can reach through that glass, she will have her Ben back. 

She goes to move. Nothing. The Force is holding her back, and she doesn't understand. 

All she's ever wanted is to know her place. She has tried to be a vessel for the Force, but to what end? It feels as though the Force is playing a cruel joke on her. Perhaps her place is not in being an instrument of the Force anymore. 

Where else does she belong? 

In Ben's arms. Receiving the love, comfort, and total acceptance that only he can give. The kind of acceptance that a family would give her.

Family. 

Her heart breaks again at the thought of a family. All her life she has tried to find a family. Her family. She knows the Resistance is her family at some level, but that's not the kind she really wants.

She wants her own, one she creates out of love. She knows love now, knows how it can complicate and change everything, and she wouldn't have it any other way. She wants that heartbreaking, all-consuming love, and she wants to share it with Ben and Ben alone. 

She tries her limbs again, and she's still cast in stone, unable to move. Her heart cries out, and she wants to give up, feeling so close to her goal but unable to reach it. 

It's as though she has failed Ben once more. 

"Be with me."

"Rey."

She hears Ben's voice clear as day. Not in her head. Not in her memories. In this very room, behind that mirror. 

If she could move, she would have plastered herself against the mirror, ready to give all of her life force to Ben to bring him back. 

Just to have another touch of his warm skin against hers. Another look into his intense, piercing eyes, eyes that see her as she is. Another kiss that promises forever and everything she's ever wanted.

"Ben?"

The relief is palpable in his voice. "Yes. I'm here, Rey. I've always been here, trying to reach you."

The Force truly does hate them, it seems. It brings them together, knitting their hearts together so tightly, only to tear it apart to watch them flounder. 

She doesn't know how much time she has with him, but she intends to make the most of it.

"I love you," she says with conviction, imagining caressing his face. "I miss you every day. I'm trying to free you, but I can't. I don't understand why!"

"I love you, too," he says, and she can see the warm, chocolate depths in his eyes. Hears how he means it. Knows it because he gave his whole life for her. "You're almost there. I'm proud of you for getting this far."

Her heart skips a beat at the admission. "But I can't move! I can't do anything," she complains. "What am I doing wrong?"

"You know so much from the Jedi texts, but there's something that you've forgotten," he says, his voice soothing her the more he talks. "Think back to your first lesson with the Force."

She forgets sometimes how much he saw inside her head. Right now, she's equal parts grateful and annoyed.

"I don't understand."

"Reach out with your feelings," he pleads, and she can vividly see him reaching out as well, reminding her of her times with Luke. "Connect to me."

She doesn't understand why this will help since he is in another world, separated from her, but she's reminded of the second vision, of how Ben reached out first, which freed Rey to speak and act. 

If it will allow her to break free of her frozen state to save him, she'll do it.

"Close your eyes," he instructs, and she does. 

Like magic, she feels the familiar tickle of awareness that only comes when she connects to Ben through the Force. All sound is sucked away, and she sees him, truly sees him. 

What she doesn't expect is that he's _naked._ Distracting to her eyes in the best way possible. It takes her a moment to remember that he faded away without clothes, and that she has those clothes, waiting for him. 

Within their bond, nothing separates them. Better yet, they are close, within arm's length. He's looking at her with a face full of pure joy, the radiant smile that he wore on Exegol now etched upon his features as he reaches out. 

She watches his hand and leans in, expecting him to touch her face. Instead, he grasps a long tendril of her hair and brings it forward lovingly, reminding her of the second vision. 

His eyes show every emotion. She is more precious than anything in the whole galaxy, and he needs to touch her to know she's real, just as she does. 

"You changed your hair," he jokes, smiling.

"No. It fell down," she explains, matching his smile with her own.

"I prefer it this way," he says softly, and she wants to drown him with kisses.

Her heart is full, and she never wants to lose this, this love and hope that allow her to feel again. She basks in his touch, how carefully he holds her, a new warmth unfurling within her, and then his hands cradle her face. As soon as his fingertips touch her flesh, she _burns._

_This_ is the final vision coming to life. Only Ben could break her free of her self-imposed prison. Everything within her comes alive, as though he has melted her frozen heart, and she feels as though spring has come, revitalizing all. 

Unlike in the vision, she will not kill him. This time, she will free him. She reaches out her arm, and just as she brushes against his scorching skin, the bond disconnects, much to her horror.

"Don't lose hope, Rey! Reach out!"

Opening her eyes, she sees the mirror and strewn-out items. Reminding herself that it's just like lifting rocks, she grasps all five items through the Force. 

The four broken kyber crystals lift into the air, and she lets out a whoop of celebration, hearing Ben's praise not far away. After she establishes that she can move and twist the colorful crystals, she focuses on the saber and the broken heart within it. 

Try as she might, she can't lift it. After several times, she wants to hang her head or cry out her frustration. 

Then it dawns on her: what if, like in the third vision, she and Ben have to work together? The Force around the dodecahedron was only satisfied and didn't harm anyone when both Ben and Rey touched it at the same time. This time, it wouldn't even let her handle the saber.

It _is_ Ben's saber after all. 

Picking up the shattered crystals again, she calls out, "Ben! Take up your saber. We have to work together."

"Of course," he breathes, and the saber matches the level of the broken kyber. "What now?"

The answer comes to her immediately, as though she's always known. The crystals are placed in front of her in a circle, in very specific order with the blue closest to her and the red one opposite. The clear ones are to her left and right, all of them beginning to glow brighter as the hope and light within her grows. 

"You have to heal your saber's crystal, Ben. When you finish, we have to unite them all together with this red one here. It's the only way to set you free."

"No."

The crystals drop, along with her jaw. She doesn't expect this from him of all people. 

Her voice rises. "Why not? It's the only way!"

"Don't you remember the last time we fought over a saber? It injured us! It could injure or kill you in the process of saving me. I refuse to risk your life to save mine."

"Ben, no!" she cries as she watches his saber float down. "You don't understand--"

"Yes, I do. I gave my life for you, Rey--"

"And my life is meaningless without you in it!" she retorts hotly, a sob sneaking its way out. "I need you." More quietly she adds, "Nothing makes sense without you."

"I know, but I can't lose you," he replies. "I almost did once."

"You did a second time. It can't be worse than this," she says, hoping it works. 

It doesn't. 

"Yes, it can. I could be the direct cause of your death. Because I selfishly wanted to be with you."

"I want that just as much!" she squawks, quieting herself after that for fear of upsetting him more. 

She racks her brain, seeking another way to explain to him why they need to try. Every avenue seems blocked to her until she glances at the red crystal and remembers something. 

After seeing the first vision, she knows more about Ben's family, and how love can go wrong when one acts out of fear. That's when she has it.

"Do you know why your grandfather fell to the Dark Side?" she asks softly. 

"Because Palpatine is evil incarnate and the Jedi treated him poorly?" he snarks, making her smile.

"No."

"Because he loved power more than he loved his wife and future family," he says, clearing his throat. "I've learned that, though! I'm putting you first."

"You're forgetting one important thing," she reminds him. "He acted out of fear as he made those choices. Not love. He selfishly wanted her to live, and by doing so, she died."

She hears the utter agony that chokes him. "Rey, no. Don't ask me to do this--"

"But you understand, don't you?" she asks.

"Yes." There's such defeat in his tone. "But I'm not--"

"Yes! Yes, you are," she insists, the crystals rising once more. "You're stronger than anyone I know. You're my equal, the other half of our dyad, and I refuse to let fear and loneliness win."

He takes a deep breath, and the air around her changes. In that moment, she knows that he has changed his mind. When the saber rises to meet her objects, she grins, rejoicing that he won't make the same mistake as his grandfather. 

"I'm ready, Rey. Have you ever healed a kyber crystal before?"

"No, but I've read about it." She tells him about it, even though he knows. When she's done, she whispers, "May the Force be with you."

Then, she watches him pour all of his energy into the saber, and as he screams, she feels pain, white hot and stinging, lance through her, and she takes it, ready to suffer with and for her soulmate. At the end of it, his cracked saber is now white. As he catches his breath, she moves her crystals to the middle of the space between them, and he removes the heart from his saber, bringing it forward to fill the hole in the circle of crystals, the red in the center. 

"Are you sure you're ready?" she asks, eyes flicking up, even if she can only see a black figure behind the mirror. 

"Yes." One by one, she brings the crystals to touch the red one, until all that's left is his. Exhaling heavily, he presses his against the red shard as well. "Now what?"

"We push them together. It'll cause an explosion."

As one, they shove their shards against one another. At first, nothing happens but a sharp burst of light filling the space for a second. The longer they hold there, the brighter the crystals grow, and soon, Rey can feel heat against her skin, as though the sun were there. 

"It's working, Ben! Keep holding on!"

The heat prickling against her skin becomes a smothering blanket, and light now fills the cavernous space permanently. Eventually, the light begins to flicker just as Rey feels exhaustion starting to slip in. 

"Rey, stay with me! You can't give up now!" he cries, his voice the bolster to her spirits that she needs.

"I will _always_ stay." She pushes a little harder, and when a spark shoots off from the joined crystals, she urges him, "One last time! Let's do it together."

"On the count of three," he says. "One."

"Two."

She braces her legs and arms. 

As one they shout, "Three!"

In the blink of an eye, a series of fireworks cascades through the cave, thousands of tiny lights arcing from the smoking remains of the kyber crystals.

Rey only sees a moment of it, having never seen so many colors fill the sky at one time, and she is mesmerized by it. However, it quickly becomes too bright to watch. Seconds later, she falls over from the force of the collision, and she hears Ben's voice calling her name until the explosion is louder than him.

When everything seems dark and quiet once more, she opens her eyes once more, hoping for a change.

She has it. The room is brighter, and she is mere feet from the mirror. Standing up, she races to the mirror, resting her palm against the cool stone.

"Let me see him, Ben. Please."

The cloudiness ripples then vanishes, revealing a hand that's bigger than hers resting against her smaller one.

Her breath is stolen from her when the black figure turns into unruly, ebony hair and pale, sculpted skin. Inch by inch, she drinks in Ben's naked body, and he does the same thing, at least until their eyes meet.

At that, time seems to slow, and it is as though no time has passed since they last saw one another. 

The last of the mirror disappears, and Rey presses her hand against Ben's testing it one last time. To make sure he's real. 

His fingers intertwine with hers, and she knows she's home at last. 

“It’s you,” she breathes, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath her touch. 

“It is,” he replies as he pulls her closer. “You brought me back, Rey.” 

She leans against his bare chest, her tears dampening the skin there. “I wasn’t ready to let you go.” 

Ben lifts her chin gently with his hand and places a soft kiss on her lips, conveying all of the love and emotion that she’s felt for him across her visions. Their bond thrums and pulses, echoing across the walls of the cave in jubilation. 

“I won’t ever be ready to let you go,” he whispers as they part. 

  
  


Rey smiles at him, her face lighting up in the darkness of the room. 

“The mirror showed me visions of us in other lifetimes, and in every scenario I would be pulled away shortly after we kissed,” she explains. “Every time I would find myself back here without you.” 

He presses another kiss to her lips, murmuring softly against her mouth. “Until now.” 

“Until now,” she repeats. 

He steps back and she blushes as she gets another look at his naked body. 

“I don’t suppose you have a cowl or something that I could put on?” He smirks. 

  
  


Rey grins and shifts her bag around to her front. “I may have something,” she replies, opening the flap of her crossbody satchel and pulling out a bundle of black fabric. 

As she unfolds it, he immediately realizes what she has and his heart skips a beat. She still has his tunic from that day on Exegol.

“It’s not much, but it will have to do,” Rey explains as she places it in his hands. “But you have to promise to give it back, I’ve grown quite attached to it.” 

He nods in agreement and runs his fingers over the soft material. “You kept it all this time?” he asks softly. 

She nods and blushes. “It was the only part of you I had for so long.” 

  
  


Ben takes the sweater and pulls it over his head, feeling the familiar comfort cover his body. When he finishes pulling down the sleeves he looks over at Rey who is biting her lip and trying very much not to laugh. 

“What?” He follows her gaze and finds that the shirt doesn’t cover _quite_ as much as he thought it would. 

She bursts out into laughter as he looks back at her sheepishly. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m not complaining about the view!” 

He grumbles and pulls the garment over his head, straightening it back out before he ties it around his waist like a makeshift loincloth. The arms of the sweater barely cover his manhood, but it offers more coverage than the first option. 

“Better?” he asks 

She eyes his broad chest with satisfaction. “I suppose it will do.” 

  
  


Together they walk out of the cave and into the fading early evening light. She watches as he shivers briefly in the ever present mist and wind that surrounds the island. 

They take cover in an abandoned hut, not far from the one she stayed in when she had come to find Luke years before then. Ben starts a fire as Rey scavenges around for a tattered old blanket, draping it over his shoulders before she sits beside him on the dirt covered ground. 

  
  


“Tell me what you saw in the cave, you mentioned your visions?” he asks after they’ve sat silently for several long moments. 

“There were four,” she begins. “Each in a different time and place, but you were always there with me and we always ended up together.” 

He regards her with a curious expression. “Can you tell me about them?” 

“The first was in a universe similar to ours, we were strangers though and both headed to Fortress Vader on Mustafar. I travelled with you and Chewie on the Falcon - you were smugglers like your father had been. We played Dejarik and that’s when I realized that I was falling for you,” she smiles. “We discovered that we were looking for the same kyber crystal, and were supposed to bring it back together but as soon as I touched it, I disappeared back to the cave, alone.” 

  
“I was a smuggler?” he asks. 

She nods and places her hand on her arm. “In the next vision we were far in the past, you were a Duke, a divorcée, and a father of a young girl named Hannah. I was her governess.” Rey blushes and continues. “You overheard your daughter telling your mother that she wished for me to be her new mother in front of me. As uncomfortable as it was in the moment, it opened up the chance for the two of us to confess our feelings later that evening.” 

“And what brought you back to the cave?” 

“We were sharing a moment in a butterfly garden, and when one landed on our entwined fingers I went to touch it and was transported away.” 

She watches as he shifts and adjusts the blanket to cover more of his back. “What about the next one?” 

“It was in the past again, but more recently than the one before. We worked at an art museum together and a mysterious artifact arrived from an anonymous donor. It wouldn’t let anyone near it without injury except for the two of us - and even then, if we handled it individually we would be filled with a sense of uneasiness.” She explains. “We stayed late into the evening to study it and you made me coffee and we kissed among other things…” 

“Other things?” 

She blushes and nods down at where the arms of his shirt attempt to protect his modesty. “Let’s just say, this isn’t the first time I’ve seen _you.”_

His eyes widen as he understands her meaning. “Did we?” 

“No, not that far,” she shakes her head and answers quietly. “I want our first time to be with this version of ourselves.” 

“I would like that as well,” he agrees. “How did that vision end?”

She squeezes his hand. “I had been studying the runes and symbols on the artifact when it began to glow and then everything went dark and suddenly I was here again, just like after the first two.” 

“There’s one more, right?” 

“I was a queen of an ice planet. I had been rescued as a feral child and brought there by the Ice King years before,” she begins. “I had these flashbacks to the time before then, when I was a little girl and you were my friend. There was a baby falcon that hatched and we couldn’t agree on his name so we rolled your father’s dice for them and you won and chose Chewie.” 

She watches as Ben chuckles in amusement. “Of course I won.” 

“I was convinced his dice were loaded,” she admits. “In the present time of that vision you had travelled to find me. I’d been haunted by memories of you as a boy, just as I was the young girl you had fallen in love with. You confessed that love to me, but I - ” 

Rey pauses and chokes back a sob. 

“You what, sweetheart?” he urges gently. 

“There was a mirror - it belonged to the Ice King and it spoke to me with these horrible thoughts and I believed it. I stabbed you, Ben. I _killed_ you.” Her tears are falling fast now, just as they had in her vision. “I regretted it instantly, I begged for you to return and whatever luck or forces or _magic_ were on our side brought you back. You had only just returned to the living when the mirror shattered and I found myself in the cave once again.” 

  
  


“In every version we found each other, and we were together,” he muses. “It’s as though we are always meant to be, across time and space, it’s always us.” 

Rey wipes her eyes and nods, giving him a glowing smile. “It’s always us,” she repeats. 

  
  


He leans forward, just barely touching his lips to hers before the sound of a familiar low hum interrupts their kiss. Her eyes widen in recognition as they both scramble to their feet and rush from the hut in time to see the Millennium Falcon landing not far away. As it touches down and the ramp descends, they watch with bated breath. 

The minutes feel like years before the familiar figure comes into view, greeting them both with a loud garbled roar. 

“Chewie!” Rey calls out, rushing towards the Wookie and into his arms. 

Ben is reluctant to follow, standing several yards back. 

The Wookie regards him with an unreadable expression, before calling to him. _ <Young Ben, it has been too long.> _

Rey watches as Ben falls into Chewie’s warm embrace, sobbing into his chest as the Wookie pats his back. 

“I’m so sorry,” he mumbles over and over as he continues to hug his old friend. 

Chewie pulls back and places his hand on his shoulder. _ <You are forgiven young Ben. You have returned, your parents would be so proud.> _

Ben lowers his head at the mention of his parents, and Rey sees the guilt and anguish cross his features. 

“It’s in the past, Ben,” she reminds him. “Your father and mother wouldn’t want you to dwell on it.” 

_ <Rey is right, young Ben, the grief will eat you alive,> _ Chewie replies before glancing down at Ben’s lack of clothing. _ <We should return to the Falcon, and you really should put on more clothes. There are some extra garments that your father left behind.> _

  
  


Back on the ship, Ben joins Rey and Chewie in the cockpit of the Falcon dressed in a shirt, pants, and vest that his father used to wear. He tosses her something, and she immediately recognizes the familiar black fabric. _His sweater._

“You made me promise to return it,” he grins and goes to take a seat in the co-pilot seat beside Chewie, motioning for Rey to come join him. 

Ben pulls her into his lap and she lets out a noise of surprise. “I can’t sit here the entire time!” She protests.

“Mmm, we’ll see,” he murmurs in her ear. 

Chewie grumbles a string of growls from beside them. _ <So much like your parents you two are.> _

Rey blushes as she watches the Wookie fire up the ship, feeling the familiar lift as it takes to the skies once more. The island below them grows smaller and smaller the further away they get and she grins at the flock of porgs she can see huddled together on the rocky cliffs below them. 

“Where are we going?” Ben asks, tightening his grip around her waist. 

Chewie looks at Rey, waiting for her to answer. 

“We can figure it out as we go,” she replies and leans her head against his. “As long as I’m with you, nothing else matters.” 

With a mighty roar, Chewie punches the button sending them off into hyperspace and a lifetime together. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading!!

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!


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